


One Call Away

by Goose_Goddess



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goose_Goddess/pseuds/Goose_Goddess
Summary: Spider-man knows Deadpool. He knows he's a mercenary who does jobs for the highest bidder and tends to shoot first, without ever asking questions after.Or, rather, he thinks he knows Deadpool. Then Deadpool asks him to help out on a job. Turns out there's a bit more to the man than what he's been told.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Spiderman/Deadpool
Comments: 89
Kudos: 295





	1. Hey Buddy, Can You Lend a Hand?

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely inspired by the Equalizer TV show I grew up watching. I love the idea of Deadpool being out to help the defenseless, a bit like he does in the movies. But I wanted to make it that plus a lot more. And I like the idea of Spider-man having a clear idea of what Deadpool is, then getting slapped in the face with reality not matching what he believes.  
> Warning, this is not beta'd, so please forgive any grammatical or spelling errors as well as any continuity errors.

Spider-man swung to the top of one of his favorite vantage point buildings and dropped to sit on the edge. It was just the start of his patrol and he was already tired. A week of exams during one of the biggest shopping seasons (read, biggest mugging and theft seasons) had exhausted his low energy. At least it was Friday and he could sleep in tomorrow. Provided he didn’t swing himself into a brick wall tonight. Maybe he should just call it a night. The stores would close in half an hour, and there would be extra police around to handle the bar closing. Then he sighed. He knew he’d stay out as long as he could. 

He took a deep breath, then scrambled to his feet. He dropped his shoulders and slumped momentarily, then shook his arms out and got ready to swing back on patrol.

“Spider-man! Spidey! Wait!” someone yelled from behind him.

Spider-man grimaced. He recognized that voice. While Deadpool could be entertaining in the middle of a battle, he was a lot to take when there wasn’t much going on. And he really didn’t approve of the man’s penchant for shooting first and asking questions never. But he was too well mannered to swing off when he had clearly heard the man. Though he was really tempted.

“What’s up Pool?” He asked, not even turning around.

“Need some help and was hoping I’d run into you. Was going to get Clint, cause he’s a pro with vents, but he’s out of the country. Of course I know that, idiot. He knows Clint is Hawkeye. He works with the Avengers. He probably is an Avenger by now. And Domino’s luck would be great, but she doesn’t have the skill set to get in and out. You’d be perfect. You’re small and I bet you could fit in the vents, and everyone trusts you so she’d have no trouble going with you. So, are you in?” Deadpool stopped as he reached Spider-man.

Spider-man turned to look at the man. “Okay. I understood about ten percent of that. What?” Deadpool’s conversations were almost impossible to follow sometimes. It felt like he was having more than one conversation at any given time, and it was hard to figure out which comments were related to each other and which ones were actually directed at him.

Deadpool groaned. “Sorry. The boxes are really in a mood tonight. I have a job and need some help. The people I usually ask for help on this kind of project aren’t available, and I thought of you.”

“A job?” Spider-man looked at him in shock. “You know I don’t kill and I won’t help you kill in any way. In fact, if you tell me that’s what you’re going to do, I’ll do my best to stop you.” He crossed his arms angrily.

Deadpool tilted his head. “Duh. I know that. It’s not _that_ kind of job.”

“Well, what kind of job is it?” Spider-man sounded exasperated. He felt exasperated. He was too tired for this.

Deadpool squinted at him. How the heck did he make his mask do that? Spider-man had tried making faces like Deadpool did in front of a mirror, and his mask was nowhere near as expressive.

“Okay, Spidey. You sound beat.” He said slowly.

Spider-man sighed. “It’s been a long week. Now, if you need my help and it doesn’t involve killing, what the heck is it.”

“Okay. Quick overview. Nice latino security guard works in one of Fisk’s towers. Unfortunately, some bad guys found out and need into that tower. Took his daughter and told him he better get them into the tower tomorrow or…” He spread his arms to the side. “So… He couldn’t go to the police, so he called me. I found out where she is, but need someone who can get into the building. And like I said, my usual choices aren’t available.”

“Why me? I’m no good at breaking and entering.” Spider-man asked, rather surprised at the job Deadpool had described. The Avengers had made it clear he should avoid the mercenary because he was the type you hired to assassinate or blow things up. Not run rescue missions.

Deadpool shook his head. “Don’t need breaking and entering. I can do that on my own. No, I’ll go in through the front door and keep everyone focussed on me while you go in through the air vents and get the girl out that way.”

Spider-man looked at him, trying to tell if the man was serious. “Are you pulling my leg?”

Deadpool sighed. “Look, I don’t have much time. If you’re not available or don’t want to help, let me know so I can try to line someone else up.”

Spider-man looked at him another minute. “I want to meet her dad.”

Deadpool nodded. “Okay. Can do. He’ll be happy to know you’re helping. He’s at one of my safe houses right now.”

Spider-man sighed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. If you give me directions, I can swing us there.” He expected Deadpool to squeal or make an inappropriate comment. To his amazement, Deadpool just nodded, waited for him to turn, then put his arms around Spider-man and calmly directed him several blocks away to another building. 

“This way.” Deadpool led him down the fire escape outside the building and to an apartment on one of the upper floors. “Just me. Brought some help.” He called out as he climbed in the window. 

Spider-man followed him through the window and found himself in a mostly empty, dimly lit living room. A youngish man with dark hair jumped up from his seat on the couch and hurried over to them. 

“Spidey, this is Noe. He’s on the security staff at Fisk’s building, works the night shift. His daughter is…” He turned to the man. “How old is Therese again?”

“She is six.” The man replied. He had a slight accent, and his voice was very shaky. “They took her on her way home from school today. They called and said I have to follow their instructions tomorrow or we will never see her again. They told me no police or we will never see her again.”

Spider-man looked at him, puzzled. “How’d you know to call Deadpool?” He asked. _And_ , he wondered, _how the heck can you possibly afford Deadpool?_ The Avengers had also mentioned how much Deadpool charged for jobs.

“Maria, my wife, told me to call him. He helped one of the women she works with. So we called.” The man looked at Spider-man.

“So.” Deadpool clapped his hands together. “I found out where they have her. Weas is going to be here in a few minutes and help us with the monitoring and plans, and then we go rescue the girl. You still in Spider-man?”

Noe scoffed. “Of course he is. Everyone knows Spider-man is good.”

Spider-man nodded. “Of course I’m in Pool. Just surprised you are. Not what I was expecting when you said you needed help.”

Deadpool shrugged. “What can I say. All play and no work makes Jack a dull boy.”

Spider-man snorted. “That’s not quite how the saying goes.”

Deadpool seesawed his hand “Tomato Potato.” 

Before Spider-man had a chance to roll his eyes, the door burst open and a loudly grumbling man barged in, several bags hanging off of him and more in his arms. “Seriously Pool. Why can’t you ever pick a ground floor unit?” The man asked, shoving past the group to dump everything on the coffee table. He then ignored everyone while he crawled around setting equipment up.

“Pool. Get the router and hot spot set up. If your internet is crap, we’re going to need the dish on the roof.” He snapped, digging through one bag.

DeadPool shrugged his arms and looked at Spider-man. 

Spider-man laughed. “You don’t know what a router is?” He asked. 

Pool shook his head. “You want a weapon identified, I’m your man. I am not, however, a geek.”

“Nerd.” Spider-man corrected. “You are, arguably, a geek. At least with weapons.” He wandered over and started digging through the bags. “Okay. I see two routers here. Which one do you want?” 

The man on the floor didn’t even look up. “Doesn’t matter. Should both be the same. Just hate leaving things up to chance. Especially since Domino isn’t here for this job.”

Spider-man followed orders, running cables and plugging in devices until the man was happy and starting booting up computers. “Okay. Let me get everything set up. Don’t need all this broadcast…. And we’re in.”

“In?” Spider-man asked.

“Weasel here is my computer expert. Though looks like you’re no slouch either. He usually yells at all of us to keep our mitts of his stuff. He let you help so you must know what you’re doing.” Deadpool was sitting across the room on the floor with this back against the wall.

“Doing a dual major.” Spider-man said absently. “Computer engineering and bioengineering.” 

The computer expert, Weasel? What kind of name was Weasel, anyway? Was typing away. “We’re in the building schematics.” He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it at Spider-man. “Here. Put this in a pocket or something so you don’t drop it.” 

Spider-man caught it reflexively, then examined it closely. It looked just like a Fitbit… just a small plastic bar with a few lights on it. “What it is?”

“GPS tracker. It’ll let me know where you are in the building so I can guide you to where you need to be. You’ll both need these too.” He tossed another item at Spider-man, then Deadpool. 

Spider-man caught the new item, an earpiece, and shrugged. “Okay. Restroom?” He glanced over at Deadpool.

“Restroom? It’s not a suppository.” Weasel groused. “Just stick it in your ear.”

Deadpool laughed. “Secret identities are a thing, Weas.” He pointed to a door in the wall.

“Oh.” Weasel glanced at Spider-man. “Hadn’t thought about that. How does that thing come off anyhow? Doesn’t look like it has any seams.” He tilted his head, then shrugged. “Glad it’s not me. Wouldn’t want to deal with that when I really need to go.”

Spider-man walked into the bathroom, then pulled his mask off and inserted the earpiece and tucked the tracker inside his suit. Then he pulled his mask back on and returned to the living room for the planning session.

Deadpool leading a mission was nothing like Spider-man expected. There were jokes and inappropriate comments, but mostly there was a clear description of the plan. Weasel gave him a clear look at his planned route and promised that with the tracker in place he could provide any changes or rerouting issues if he needed them.

Noe sat still and quiet in the corner, but seemed confident that they’d get his daughter. Spider-man wasn’t so sure. A lot was riding on him, and he was just so tired. But Deadpool had said 3 a.m. was the best time to hit the building—well past closing time at the bars, but not late enough for the morning rush. So he just had to stay awake until time to leave.


	2. It's Just an In and Out Job...

Spider-man and Deadpool swung out at 2 to make sure they were both in place and ready to go. Spider-man dropped Deadpool a few blocks away, then climbed up into position and waited for Deadpool’s signal.

He yawned widely and hoped he didn’t fall asleep while waiting. He passed the time thinking over what had happened. Deadpool was certainly not behaving like he expected. Not that he knew Deadpool very well. The Avengers had hired him a few times when they needed something done and didn’t want to get their hands dirty. And Shield hired him too. Mostly Spider-man had seen him when whatever was attacking the city was big enough to be an all hands on deck situation. Then he was usually making jokes and shooting everything in sight. Spider-man sighed. Not everything in sight. He’d never seen Deadpool hit a civilian. But even so. He was a merc. He figured that meant he took whatever the highest bidder was offering. He couldn’t imagine Noe was offering much.

“Okay guys.” Weasel’s voice in his ear startled him. Well, at least now he was wide awake.

“Ready to go here.” Deadpool said. “Spidey, when you hear the alarms go off, head in.”

“Got it.” Spider-man said, climbing down the wall to the vent entry. He pulled the cover off and webbed it back on along the top edge, so it would swing open and look closed once he was in. “All set here. Ready when you are.”

“And here goes.” Deadpool said. A few seconds later, sirens and gunshots nearly deafened Spider-man. 

Grimacing, he scrambled into the vent and pulled himself down the tunnel. It was big enough to crawl, so he made good time. And fortunately, once he got a ways down the tunnel, the noise dropped off enough that his ears weren’t aching. 

Weasel wasn’t much of a conversationalist, simply telling Spider-man which way to go any time he reached a branch. Spider-man was glad to have his guidance. Even if he’d had the map with him, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have been lost after the second turn.

“Okay. Spiderdude. You should see a hole in the wall on your right. It should be in the right room, but high on the wall. Don’t know how many are still in the room with her.”

Spider-man glanced around. There was a vent opening just ahead on his right. He inched forward far enough to look in. Not much in the room. A bed, with a small girl curled up on it, and an angry-looking guy standing in front of a closed door, gun drawn. Okay… gotta get the guy before he can do anything, so gonna have to be fast. Have to pop out the cover but don’t want too much noise. He attached a web to the vent cover and the ceiling, then punched the cover out with one hand while aiming the other and webbing the man’s gun as soon as the hole was clear. Then he quickly webbed his arms and jerked him away from the door and onto his back. And webbed his mouth, amazed that the man hadn’t yelled. Maybe they’d get out of here unnoticed.

He jumped down and rushed over to the little girl who had uncurled when the man crashed to the floor. She looked at the man, then at Spider-man. And immediately grinned. “Spider-man!” She said. 

Spider-man held his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Gonna take you to your dad, but we have to be quiet. Okay?”

She nodded and held her arms up to the hero. 

“Okay, kiddo. Going to put you on my back. Okay?” He turned around and crouched down so she could grab around his neck. “Hold on tight. When we leave the building, I’m going to web you on, but to get through the tunnel we’re going to have to crawl.” She nodded against his back and held on while he pulled them up to the vent. Then he helped her shift around and crawl into the tunnel and quickly crawled after her. He fixed the vent in place. He figured they’d quickly know where to look when they saw the guy webbed up, but any time would help. 

“Weasel, got her. Guide us back out.” He whispered.

“Who are you talking to?” The girl whispered to him.

“My friend is on the phone, telling us where to turn. Now follow me, okay?” 

The girl nodded and crawled after him. She was a real trooper, didn’t complain or make any noise as they hurried back. Then they were out and Spider-man webbed her onto his back. “What about Deadpool?” He asked.

“He’ll get out on his own.” Weasel answered. 

“You sure? The gun shots are still going on.”

“The girl’s the priority. Get her home.” Spider-man frowned. But he could hardly leave the girl here on the side of the building, so he swung them both back to the safe-house. 

Noe grabbed the girl from him the minute they got back and hugged her. She informed him that swinging through the city was not as fun as it looked; it was too cold and made her tummy hurt. 

Spider-man sat down next to Weasel. “Where’s Deadpool? Should I go back and help him?”

Weasel shook his head. “No. Our orders are to keep this place safe until he gets here.”

Spider-man fidgeted. 

Weasel turned and looked at him. “You’re as bad as Pool. Can’t stand being out of the action. Making sure you’re not followed and that they don’t grab her again is just as important as getting her free in the first place.”

Spider-man sighed. “I guess. I just need to do something.”

Weasel snorted. “Never did get you hero types. Go make them something to eat.”

Spider-man shrugged and headed into the kitchen. Food was good. He dug through the kitchen. It didn’t have much fresh food, but there was jarred spaghetti sauce and pasta. He found some pans and started the noodles cooking and added mushrooms and some frozen sausage he found in the freezer to the sauce. Then found a few bowls and served up some to everyone while they waited for Deadpool.


	3. You Thought We Were Done?

Spider-man woke up slowly and lifted his hand up to his face. He’d fallen asleep in costume again. He reached up and started to pull off his mask when someone grabbed his wrist. 

“Sorry, Spidey. Bro code won’t let me let you expose yourself like that.” Deadpool? What was Deadpool…? Oh yeah. Last night’s events slowly filtered back into his head. “You good there, Spidey?”

Spider-man nodded and sat up, embarrassed to find he’d fallen asleep with his head in Deadpool’s lap. “When did you get back?” He asked. Or tried. His voice was so hoarse he wasn’t sure anyone understood what he’d said. He cleared his throat again. “When did you get back?”

“You’re worried about little ole me? Awww, Spidey. I didn’t know you cared.” Deadpool crooned. Then laughed. “I got back a couple hours ago. Just in time for you to topple over into my lap and start snoring.”

Spider-man facepalmed. “Sorry. It’s been a long week.” 

Deadpool shook his head. “No worries. You saved the maiden fair, and that’s all that matters. Providing you with a pillow is the least I can do.”

Spider-man stretched and felt his back crack. “Speaking of maidens fair, how is she?”

“Therese? She’s asleep in the other room with her dad. Her mom’s on her way and we’re working on making sure all stay safe.”

“Stay safe?” Spider-man asked, not quite sure what was going on. His brain felt half asleep still.

“Sure. Need to make sure someone doesn’t just grab one of them again. Can’t just send them home. Working on new jobs and a place to live. Fortunately, they don’t have any other family to worry about, so that makes it easy.”

“What?” Spider-man looked at Deadpool, then over at Weasel, who was still typing frantically on his laptops.

“Well, if we send them back to their current lives, someone could just grab Therese again. Or Maria. And Noe would be right back where he is now. He needs a job that pays enough to take care of his family and eventually bring Maria’s mom to live with them, and that doesn’t put them at risk for any of this crap.”

“Got it.” Weasel said. “Domino found him a great day time security position in a small town in Michigan at a mall. Pays less than what he’s getting now, but the cost of living is less and the benefits are amazing. Provided he’s okay with snow and cold weather, we can get him in and set up by Monday.”

“You found him a new job?” Spider-man asked, confused. “What?”

Deadpool snorted. “Think pulling that little girl out of the building was the end?” He shook his head.

“But..” Spider-man looked at him, flabbergasted. “I thought you were a merc? The Avengers told me you were a merc and that I should stay away from you.”

Deadpool shrugged. “I am a merc. And I will charge Noe. He knows this isn’t free.”

Spider-man frowned. “But. But how can he possibly afford you?”

Deadpool just shrugged again. Then turned back to Weasel. “That’s good, and the weather can’t be any worse than New York. But just in case, keep looking. Maria should be here soon and we can check everything with them.”

Spider-man leaned back and just watched as the two discussed possible jobs and positions, completely confused and not sure what to think.

The door buzzed, and Deadpool ran over and pushed the button. “Yeah?”

“Hello Mr. Pool. It is me, Dopinder. I have brought a nice lady to see you. She says you are expecting her?”

“Yep, Dopinder, that’s the lovely Maria. Can you please escort her up to the door? Call me immediately if you see anyone else. If you get any tickets, I will, of course, cover them.”

“No problem, Mr. Pool.” 

A few minutes later, a knock on the door was followed by the entry of a frantic woman who seemed to speak only Spanish (but so quickly Spider-man could barely make out one word in ten) and a smiley man who must be the “Dopinder” Deadpool had been talking to. Deadpool shook hands with Dopinder, handed him a pile of cash, then answered the woman’s questions and quickly led her to the room where Noe and the little girl were sleeping.

Spider-man frowned and made his way back into the kitchen. He’d seen some pancake mix in the cabinet, and even if he had to make it with water, it would make a half decent breakfast. And he really needed something to do.

He also found some powdered milk, and a bottle of real maple syrup, and started a batch of of pancakes. By the time Deadpool and Noe’s family were back, he had a decent size stack of pancakes and some paper plates out for everyone.

“Excellent choice of syrup.” Deadpool commented. “I approve.”

Spider-man snorted. “Wasn’t me. It’s your safe house.”

Deadpool laughed. “Well, that explains it. What are pancakes without actual maple syrup?”

A little later, the entire group was seated around the living room eating pancakes. Spider-man took a seat on the floor and just watched.

Weasel and Deadpool explained the options to the family, and they unanimously decided that the job in Michigan was the best choice for the family. And in less than an hour, Deadpool and Weasel had arranged a new house, new job and had the family scheduled on a flight that day to Michigan, and called Dopinder to pick up the family and deliver them to the airport just in time for their flight.

“Thank you, Mr. Pool.” Noe said. “Thank you so much.” He shook Deadpool’s hand. “And here is your fee.” He handed Deadpool a pile of money and then hugged the man. “Thank you again.”

And the family was out the door, escorted by Dopinder, and on their way to Michigan.

“What just happened?” Spider-man asked, puzzled. 

“I took a merc job.” Deadpool shrugged. “It’s what I do.” 

“But. But. How much did he pay you?” Spider-man asked. “How could he possibly afford you?”

Deadpool looked down at the pile of bills in his hand, then flipped through them. “Looks like one hundred dollars.”

“What? But? What?” Spider-man looked at him, completely confused.

Deadpool sighed. “Look. People like Noe feel… powerless. There’s really nothing they can do. Right? But they can hire me. So I let them pay me. I’d do it for free, but then they still feel like they can’t do anything. But if they hire me, they’re doing something. It makes them feel a little less powerless. I don’t need the money, so I don’t care how much. I just…” He shrugged. “It just helps them. That way they feel like they have a right to say how things are done. And they feel like they did something. Even if there isn’t much else they can do.”

Spider-man stared at him, stunned. Here he’d thought Deadpool was a merc who did anything for money, and he _was_ doing something for money, but only because it meant that the victim didn’t feel so much like a victim. And he was losing money for sure. The taxi rides alone had to be more than $100, and then there were the plane tickets and…

Deadpool walked over and punched his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Spidey. When it comes to greedy capitalists and governments, I still charge big bucks. But for people who need real help…” He shrugged. “I help.”

Spider-man got up. “Well, I need to head back to bed and sleep.” He headed to the window and started to climb out, then paused and turned back. “But, if you need help on more jobs like this, feel free to ask me.”

Deadpool grinned. Again, how does he make his mask do that????? “Good to know baby boy. Can always use more support when the underdogs need help.”

Spider-man nodded and turned back to the window.

“Wait! Spidey!” Deadpool yelled. Spider-man did not almost jump on the ceiling. Okay, he did. But it was only almost.

“What, Pool?” he asked, sounding more exasperated than he meant to. 

“Did you give Weasel his equipment back?” 

Spider-man frowned. “What? Oh. No… Forgot.”

Deadpool glared at Weasel. “And of course Weasel didn’t remind you.”

Weasel didn’t look up, but shrugged. “What can I say. I like to know things.”

“Secret identities, Weas. We don’t out our friends.” Deadpool crossed his arms, still glaring at the man tapping away on a laptop.

“He’s your friend, not mine.” Weasel replied.

“Would you prefer he had you on his enemies list? Or you wanna be on mine?” Deadpool snapped.

“What’s the big deal?” Spider-man yawned. “If I forgot, I could just get it back to him later.”

Deadpool snorted. “After he tracked you home.”

Spider-man froze. He’d forgotten about the tracker. “Oh.” He said lamely. “Yeah, I better get that back to him now.” He fled to the bathroom, removed the devices, and dropped them on the table in front of Weasel. 

“Thanks Pool.” He said “I’m clearly too tired to be awake. Gonna go take a nap.”

“No worries.” Pool replied. “Thanks for the help. I’m sure Noe and Therese appreciate it too.”

Spider-man grinned, then fled out the window, more confused than ever. The entire night had not gone at all the way he’d expected it to.


	4. Once Is Happenstance, Twice Is Coincidence...

Spider-man didn’t run into Deadpool after the rescue for over a week. Not that he ran Deadpool that often before the rescue. He really only saw the Merc when aliens or robots invaded New York. Which, come to think of it, seemed to happen every other week. 

However, he found himself thinking about the Merc at the strangest times. Sitting in Org Chem while taking notes. Drafting his Honors Symposium presentation. Debugging his AI. Suddenly he’d find himself wondering how much of Deadpool was just rumor and gossip, and how much of it was reality. The stories the Avengers told didn’t seem to line up with what he’d seen the other night. For that matter, it didn’t seem to line up with what he’d seen of Deadpool before. Eventually, he’d shake his head and get himself focussed back on whatever he was supposed to be working on.

Patrolling, he kept an eye (and an ear) out for Deadpool. But he didn’t come across the Merc. He’d decided it was just one of those weird exceptions that proved the rule, and that Deadpool was unstable and untrustworthy, when he found Daredevil waiting for him on a rooftop.

“Daredevil.” He said. “Need some help?” He walked toward the other superhero. He worked with Daredevil now and then, when one of the smaller villains crossed their territory lines. The Avengers really only dealt with the big bads. Daredevil was more like him, interested in the crooks that made life miserable for a lot of the poor and disadvantaged, but didn’t cross the line into supervillain.

Daredevil nodded at him. “Just a few questions. Had a few odd occurrences lately and was wondering if you’d seen anything similar. Been a big increase in attacks, early mornings. Looks kind of like animal attacks, but the victims remember nothing. So far no deaths, but…” He shrugged. 

Spider-man shook his head. “Haven’t seen any attacks like that. But my usual territory isn’t that close to yours. I’ll keep my eyes open though and let you know if any show up.” He paused. “Let me know if you need any help. We have enough to worry about with muggers and rapists. Don’t need to add werewolves into the mix.”

Daredevil snorted in laughter, then shook his head. “Until I get a little more information, not much we can do. For all I know it’s someone’s escaped pet causing issues. Just wanted to see how far the attacks are spreading.”

“Well, keep me updated. And let me know if you need some help.” 

“Will do.” Daredevil turned and headed back to the door into the building and back to his patrol.

Spider-man hesitated for a minute, then called after him. “Wait. Got a question for you.”

Daredevil turned back to face him. “Sure. What?”

“Have you done any work with Deadpool?” Spider-man asked, a little nervously. He wasn’t sure how the man would react to his questions. 

Daredevil shrugged. “Sure. I’ve helped him out on a few jobs. Why?”

“His jobs or Shield jobs?” Spider-man asked, fidgeting a little.

Daredevil grinned. “So you know about his jobs, do you?”

“I guess?” Spider-man said slowly. “I mean, he asked me to help him out the other day, and I was all set to say no. The Avengers make him sound like an absolute psychopath. But… he needed me to save some little girl who was being used to blackmail her dad. Then he charged the dad for saving her. But then he found them a new home and flew them out of state. I asked him about it because it didn’t make any sense. He spent a fortune, and he got paid around a hundred bucks.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

Daredevil looked at him for a minute. Well, whatever a blind superhero does when he wants to know how you feel. Listening? Some super sense no one else had? Spider-man shook his head. Focus.

“Look.” Daredevil said. “Looks like you have a lot on your mind.” He waved at the building’s edge. “Want to talk about it?”

Spider-man sighed. “I guess. I’m just really confused about the whole thing.” He walked over to the edge and dropped to sit.

Daredevil settled next to him. “He is confusing. He _is_ unstable and dangerous, and you’d probably do well to stay away from him. But…” He paused, looking out over the city.

“But?” Spider-man prompted when the man didn’t say anything else for several minutes.

“But, when it comes to underdogs and people no one else will help, he does everything he can. It’s almost like there are two Deadpools. One’s an insane asshole who charges as much as he can get to do nasty jobs no one else will do. The other one’s still not a nice guy, but he will do everything he can to help people who are getting stomped on.” He shrugged. “I’ve helped him with both kinds of jobs.”

“You have?” Spider-man asked. “Do you mind if I ask what he had you do?”

Daredevil shrugged. “You know what kind of jobs Shield has him do. They send him in when they need someone disposable. Someone who can go in and get the job done, no matter what the risk. And, since he can’t die, he’ll always come back. So they don’t have to feel guilty.”

Spider-man nodded. “But…” He paused. “But from what I’ve heard, he does die.”

Daredevil nodded. “He feels pain, and he dies. He just heals so much that he always comes back. Shield considers that to make it worth sending him in. He’s also incredible with any weapon and has an unbelievable success rate on his jobs.”

Spider-man hadn’t really thought about it before. The way Shield and the Avengers talked about it, Deadpool was crazy, felt no pain, and couldn’t be killed. Knowing he died and could get hurt changed things a lot. It was one thing to die for a good cause, and another to die repeatedly to make sure some government agency always had the upper hand in international issues. He understood a little better why Deadpool charged so much.

Daredevil just sat next to him quietly, letting him think.

“I guess I always thought he was bulletproof, from the way the Avengers talk about him,” he said finally.

Daredevil didn’t respond for another few minutes. “Part of that is because Deadpool doesn’t want people pitying him. Part of that is because they just don’t want to know. It’s easier to send someone in if you don’t have to think about them dying or being in pain.”

“I guess.” Spider-man sighed. “It doesn’t seem right.” His thoughts kept running over all the times he’d seen Deadpool shot and laughing it off. But he knew there had been other times when Deadpool had been hurt much worse.

“Look. He’s willing to do it, and they’re willing to pay him,” Daredevil said. “You don’t like it, cause you are a good guy. And a lot of the decisions both Shield and the Avengers are…” He waved a hand in the air. “They’re not something a good guy is going to like. But they’re doing it for the greater good.”

“Or so they claim.” Spider-man hugged his knees to his chest. “But you’re right. I don’t agree with some of their decisions. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never joined them.”

Daredevil laughed. “If you think it’s wrong, just make sure you never use him like cannon fodder. Look. Why don’t I tell you about one of the other jobs I helped him out with?”

Spider-man nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Deadpool was helping a woman who came to him because no one believed her. Her husband had left her and quit his job, changed his whole life. She said her husband had been kidnapped and brainwashed, and was acting crazy. The police said it was a midlife crisis, and that she needed to either wait it out or get over it. Sometimes people just leave.

But Deadpool did some research, and it turned out she was right. A scientist who was really pissed at recent cuts in spending on research grants had developed a mind-altering drug that let him turn people into his… puppets, I guess you’d call them. He was just starting his testing and had grabbed her husband because he was convenient. They worked in the same building or something. Deadpool asked me to help, since some of the other victims were in my neighborhood. He knew I’d help since the man was attacking my neighbors.

The scientist was planning on using the drug to take over congress or the president or something else. I admit I tuned him out when he started his usual villain rant. We caught the scientist, got the antidote, and tracked down the other victims and got everyone back to normal.” Daredevil finished up.

“Did he charge the woman?” Spider-man asked.

Daredevil grinned. “I think he charged her $20 and stops by for dinner every few months.”

Spider-man nodded slowly. “So the other night when I helped him out wasn’t the first time he did something like this.”

“No.” Daredevil said. “I think the main reason he does the other jobs, the ones that pay so well, is to fund the jobs he does to help. Or maybe he does the jobs to help to make up for the other jobs, the ones where he leaves such a body count behind.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. He doesn’t really talk about it.”

Spider-man sighed. “I had myself convinced it was just the exception that proved the rule that Deadpool is insane. But, I wasn’t really thinking of Deadpool as a person. He was just… I don’t even know what I thought he was.” 

Daredevil shook his head. “Don’t feel too bad about it. Deadpool would understand. He divides the world into two groups of people. Those with power and those without. He has no problem taking money and killing those with power. But those without… He wouldn’t do anything to hurt them. But don’t think he’s a good guy. He’s not. At least not by the standards of most people. He has his own moral code, and he sticks to it. It’s just, well, more flexible than other people’s.”

“Thanks.” Spider-man said thoughtfully. “It was a surprise for me. I’m really not sure what I think.”

Daredevil shrugged. “Well, don’t stress too much. Help him with his jobs or avoid him, he’s going to keep on being who he is, whatever you do. See you around Spider-man.” He climbed to his feet then disappeared into the building.

Spider-man stared after him thoughtfully. Daredevil had given him even more to think about. Deadpool had mentioned Hawkeye too. Maybe he’d stop by Stark Tower tomorrow after classes and see if he could find Clint and talk to him.


	5. Roombas, Tacos, and Tinfoil Hats

The next day Peter was walking to the library on campus when he heard people talking about a bot attack. A few questions later, and he was walking quickly to the nearest building. He darted inside, raced up the stairs to reach the roof. Then he stripped down to his Spider suit, stuffed everything into his backpack and was swinging uptown.

It took a few minutes to understand what was going on. There were several, multi-legged robotic creatures, about the size of a golden retriever, running around. They were knocking people over, and pulling at their arms and hands.

He swung down close, and realized that the bots were stealing jewelry from the people they knocked down. They didn’t seem to be hurting them too badly, other that the force of knocking them over. They seemed to be using some sort of laser to slice through the metal of the rings and bracelets and remove them from their victims. 

“What the heck?” Spider-man said. “High tech pickpockets? You could be a little more subtle, rather than knocking people onto the ground.” He shot a web at the nearest bot, and was nearly pulled off the wall. Surprised at the strength of the bot, he was nearly yanked off the building he was clinging to. Irritated, he yanked back harder and managed to drag the bot a few feet towards him. But then it leaned away from him and managed to walk away, dragging the web and Spider-man after it. 

“Okay, okay, so you’re strong little robobuggies.” He shot out more webs, this time aiming for the legs. He yanked the trapped legs and tipped the thing over with a thud. While it was down, he hurried over and webbed all the legs into a bundle. That seemed to work, with its legs trapped it couldn’t move or knock people over.

Four bots later, he was starting to get worried. It was take too long to disable a single bot, his webs would only last an hour, and by the time he was half way through the 50 or so bots he saw around, the first ones would be getting loose.

“Nice. Friends of yours?” Deadpool’s voice interrupted his slowly growing panic spiral. “Fellow arachnids?”

“Pool.” He turned and saw the Merc leaning against a wall and watching him. “And can’t you count? They only have six legs.”

“Ah. And arachnids don’t like insects. Did I interrupt a turf war?” Deadpool grinned. 

“Don’t like bugs when they’re knocking innocent civilians over and stealing their jewelry. And they’re using lasers to cut the jewelry off. What if they get impatient and start cutting off fingers or hands.”

“Hmmm. Good point. Want a little help? Seems like the kind of foe you don’t mind if I slice and dice.”

Spider-man nodded. “Honestly, I could use the help. These things are scarily strong. And it’s taking ages to web them up.”

Deadpool nodded and pulled his Katanas out. “I’m guessing bullets might ricochet and do too much collateral damage, I’ll stick to these.”

Spider-man glanced briefly at the weapons. “Have at ‘em. But watch out—they’re strong. Might chip your blades.”

“Not these ones.” Deadpool replied. “Just watch.” And he was off, blades flashing. He hit the bots on the leg joints, disabling them quickly, and taking bot after bot down. Whatever those blades were made out of, the bots didn’t stand a chance.

Then Spider-man realized he’d been watching Deadpool for far too long, and swung back into action. “Nice work Pool.” He called.

“The mistake they made was giving roombas legs.” Deadpool called back.

“Yeah. I’d kind of like to know how they made these.” Spider-man said, hog tying a bot that was charging a bystander. “And you think people would start avoiding this area.”

Deadpool laughed. “Welcome to New York. Have an alien invasion, or a bot attack, and everyone nearby comes to see what’s going on.”

Spider-man groaned. “Maybe I should move to a city out west where people don’t have such a danger kink.”

“Sorry to disappoint you Spidey, but the midwesterners stand outside in thunderstorms to watch the lightning, the folks on the coast refuse to leave during hurricanes, and the guys out west mow their lawns during tornadoes.”

“Are people crazy?” Spider-man said.

“Spidey, you’re currently dressed in spandex, swinging around on a thread, and taking on mini Triffids. I don’t think you have any ground to stand on.”

Spider-man snorted. “Fair.”

Between the two of them, they had the entire herd of bots disabled quickly. By the time they were done, someone had shown up from Shield and was putting all the disabled bots into a containment cube.

“Thanks for the help.” Spider-man said, after looking around and making sure that all the bots were down.

Deadpool grinned. “No worries. It’s not too often I can go all out on the things. Was a nice change. Looks like Shield took care of all the clean up for us.”

“Yeah, though I kind of want to take one of those apart.” Spider-man looked down at his feet for a minute, debating. Part of him had really enjoyed (again) working with Deadpool. Sighing, he decided that he wasn’t going to let anyone make up his mind about people for him. “Hey, Pool, feel like getting Tacos with me? I missed lunch, and won’t have time for dinner, but I have an hour or so before my next class.”

“Awesome! I know just where to get them.” Deadpool squealed. “Follow me!” And he darted off down a side street.

Spider-man just laughed, somehow his squealing wasn’t as annoying as it usually was. 

Fifteen minutes later they were perched on a roof, sharing an enormous bag of food. Spider-man had tried to pay, but Deadpool simply insisted that _he_ had a grown-up job while Spider-man was clearly a student and could pay once he graduated and got his own grown-up job.

It clearly amused the staff in the small restaurant they’d ended up in. In fact, Spider-man was surprised at the attitude of everyone when then walked in. He was used to people around him—how they reacted depended on whether or not they’d read the latest rant from Jameson. But either way they avoided him, either out of awe or disgust. But Deadpool walked in, and the staff all called out greetings to him. He was pretty sure most of them were insulting, but they all seemed very happy to see him. Deadpool had introduced Spider-man, and they all immediately started calling greetings out to Spider-man too. 

And they’d all agreed with Deadpool when he insisted on paying. The woman who took their order, a grandmotherly woman with her hair up in a bun, told him that he was always welcome and would get their special friend of Deadpool rate. 

Spider-man had wanted to protest, but between the number of people insisting poor college students needed help and support, and the fact that he _was_ a poor college student, meant he ended up agreeing to letting the Merc pay. 

He shrugged to himself, and took another bite of his taco. They really were amazing. He was going to have to find out how good a deal the “friends of Deadpool” special was. 

“So, why were you having so much trouble with those triffid roombas?” Deadpool asked.

Spider-man frowned.“They’re strong. A lot stronger than they should be. I couldn’t budge them when their feet were on the ground.”

“Didn’t you stop a train once? And lift a car?” Deadpool scoffed.

“Yeah…” Spider-man replied. “And those things weigh next to nothing. I don’t understand how they managed to keep me from…”

“Oh! Is that why you wanted this?” Deadpool asked, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a legless bot.

Spider-man stared at him in astonishment. Deadpool’s costume looked like it was made out of leather and kevlar, but it was just a form fitting as his own. Where the heck had he gotten that thing? “Wh… Where did you have that thing? _Why_ did you have that thing?” He stammered.

“You said you wanted to see how one worked.” Deadpool shrugged. “I know once Shield gets their mitts on stuff, they don’t share too well. I figured the best way to make sure you got a chance to see how one worked was to keep one for you.”

Spider-man took the bot away from him, and looked it over. “What if it’s dangerous?”

Deadpool shrugged. “What’s it going to do? I pulled its legs off.”

“Hmmm. I suppose I can also stuff it in a faraday cage.” Spider-man said. “Keep it from sending or receiving any data while I investigate…” He could grab the stuff he needed from his office at school, so no one would be able to trace him when he went home. And the school was a public enough place that they’d be hard pressed to track Spider-man to anyone.

Deadpool clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s my Spidey genius. Let me know what you find out. Weasel will be fascinated. He loves all that roboty techy stuff.”

Spider-man laughed. “Okay, okay. But it’s not that hard. The Doomsday Preppers have instructions on Youtube for building a faraday cage.”

“Eh. I just wrap things in tinfoil.” Deadpool replied. “Guy in an alley told me it’ll protect my brain from psychic waves.”

“Surprisingly enough, in a pinch, enough tinfoil’ll work.” Spider-man. “But your microwave or a metal trash can with a lid is better and doesn’t look so weird.” He yawned. “Of course, none of those will keep the psychic waves out of your head. You’d have to completely enclose your head, and that’s a problem.”

“Well, maybe for you.” Deadpool said. “I’ve had my head off once or twice.”

“But I think sticking your head in a microwave, even if you survived it, would make you pretty much unable to function.” Spider-man said. “You wouldn’t be able to see anything or hear anything.”

Deadpool shrugged. “Well, to be honest, I don’t really care if the psychics want to listen to my head. It would give the voices someone else to talk to for a while. Might leave me alone.”

“What voices?” Spider-man asked.

Deadpool looked at him, tilting his head to one side like a curious dog. “Didn’t you read my file?”

Spider-man shook his head. “No need to. Didn’t ever expect to have to go up against you. And unless I need to take you down, it just seems like an invasion of privacy.”

“Well, you know I was in Project X, right? It’s where I got my nifty powers.” Deadpool said.

Spider-man nodded. “Yeah. I did know that…”

“Well, the voices started at the same time. They mostly complain about the world and insult me.” He shrugged. “Sometimes they’re pretty loud.”

“They? How many are there?” Spider-man asked. He wondered if that meant Deadpool was schizophrenic. 

“Two. I call them Yellow and White. But don’t worry. They don’t control me or anything. They’re more like… you ever see the Muppet Show?”

“What? Uh, yeah, that’s the one with all the puppets. Kermit, right?” Spider-man asked, completely confused now. Of course, half the time he was completely lost when talking to Deadpool.

“The two old guys up in the balcony. Statler and …. Whatever his name was. Mortimer? No…Waldorf. They sit up there and complain and insult the show and the actors. That’s Yellow and White. Sometimes they’re loud and obnoxious enough to disrupt the show, but mostly they’re just annoying.” 

Spider-man couldn’t remember anyone by those names. He’d have to go look for some episodes on Youtube when he got a chance. But he thought he understood what Deadpool was saying. 

“Not that I want to see you go,” Deadpool said, “but you did say you had to get to class.”

“Crap!” Spider-man said. “I have to run. Thank you for lunch. See you around?”

“Sure thing Spidey. Have fun learning.” Deadpool waved.

Spider-man waved back, webbing the drone to his chest before swinging off to grab his backpack and heading to class. 


	6. You Can't Teach an Old Dog to Change His Spots

A few days later, Spider-man finally had time to stop in at Stark Tower, to find Clint.

Unfortunately, the first person he ran into (seeing as Jarvis was an AI, and everywhere in the building, and therefore didn’t count) was Tony Stark. Who was not in a good mood and had many things to share with Spider-man as soon as he saw him.

Spider-man wasn’t proud of himself, but he tuned the man out after the third time he pointed out that Deadpool took money for killing people, and that he was bug shit crazy.

Despite feeling that Stark was a) over reacting and b) quite the hypocrite, considering he employed two former assassins who still killed people on orders, he knew better than to argue with a fanatic. The man was looking a lot like Jameson at the moment, just with a goatee instead of a mustache. Maybe facial hair was the sign of an unhinged mind? 

Stark had him trapped in a corner of the hallway near where he’d come in. He could see other people, including Avengers, walking in their direction, taking one look at Stark, and swerving off in other directions like they’d just remembered they needed to put money in their meters. He was pretty sure he’d even seen Natasha take one look at the “discussion” and turn an abrupt about-face and head back the way she’d come. 

Eventually, however, Stark ran out of steam. And after Spider-man agreed that yes, he’d keep all the things he’d heard in mind, and yes, he’d be very careful around Deadpool, Stark wandered off.

Spider-man just stood, somewhat shell-shocked, where Stark had left him, no longer in the mood to talk to anyone. In fact, the thought of talking to people was suddenly too exhausting and all he wanted to do was swing to the top of the nearest tall building where no one else was and enjoy the silence.

“Spider-man, are you okay, sir?” Jarvis sounded hesitant.

Spider-man straightened up. “Yeah, Jarvis, I’m fine. But on second thought, I’ll talk to Clint another day. Suddenly I really feel like swinging around the city a bit.”

“As you wish.” The AI replied. “I must say, it’s a lovely day for it.”

Spider-man shook his head to clear his head, then turned around and headed out of the building. He spent the next hour just swinging up high enough that the city sounds were just a faint rumble. When he finally felt like he had a grip on himself, he landed on the top of a building, and collapsed on the edge, looking out over the city.

“Spider-man.” A woman’s voice startled him, and he jumped back to his feet and spun around.

Natasha was standing a few feet away, one eyebrow raised as she watched him.

“Don’t _do_ that!” He yelped.

Natasha just folded her arms and looked at him. 

He sighed. “What’s up? I have to admit, right now I’m really not in the mood for any Avengers assists. Been a bit of a rough afternoon for me.”

“So I saw.” She replied. Then she walked closer and sat on the edge of the building. 

Spider-man looked at her, confused. “Did you want something?” He asked, bewildered.

She patted the roof next to her. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Look…” He sighed. “I get it. Deadpool’s bad news. I should stay away from him. Do I really need to hear any more of this?”

“Sit.” She said.

He sat down next to her, tense and nervous. He was never really comfortable around her; she was so hard to read. Not having a clue what she wanted, he fidgeted nervously. He felt like he should say something, but had no idea what he should say.

“I wanted to talk to you about Deadpool.” Natasha said.

Spider-man immediately groaned. “Really? Didn’t I get enough of that from Stark?”

“You have to understand, Stark has a bit of a problem with Deadpool. He’s never going to see him as anything other than a menace.” Natasha said. “I’d think you’d be familiar with that, seeing as you have your own personal hater.”

“Yeah. I do, and I’m beginning to see that it’s very similar. But why? What the heck did Deadpool do that pissed Stark off so much?” 

“Well, I’m not sure of the details…” Spider-man grunted in disbelief. Natasha never said anything she wasn’t sure of. She just glared at him before resuming. “Apparently, Deadpool stole one of Stark’s suits and was pretending to be Iron Man. There was an issue at a nuclear power plant, and Deadpool grabbed the overheating power core and flew off with it before the plant melted down. But then he dumped it in the ocean, causing a serious clean up problem that Stark is still dealing with.”

Spider-man winced. “Ouch.”

She nodded. “He meant well, but…” She turned and looked at him. “But that was a long time ago. Stark won’t look beyond that though and hasn’t seen that Deadpool has really cleaned up his act a lot. He’s never going to admit that he’s not the same crazy broken thing he was when he first got out of Weapon X.”

Spider-man nodded. “If he’s anything like Jameson, Deadpool could save his life and the city of New York, and he’d assume it was a plot to do something truly terrifying.”

“I wanted to talk to you, because I didn’t want you to think everyone feels the same way Tony does. Deadpool is dangerous. He’s incredibly deadly. And he does have some serious mental issues. But he seems to have found something to hang on to, and he’s no longer as broken as he was. You need to treat him with caution, but he’s not the psychopathic killer that Tony seems to see him as.”

Spider-man looked up at the sky. “I was coming over to see if I could talk to Clint about him. Pool asked me to help rescue a little girl the other day. She was being held hostage to blackmail her dad, and Deadpool rescued her and set the family up with new lives somewhere else. He said he’d asked me because Clint wasn’t available.”

Natasha nodded. “I know Clint has worked with him several times. He’s good with kids, and there have been a lot of times Deadpool’s wanted someone to get into somewhere that meant crawling through tight places.” She shrugged. “Clint enjoys working with him.”

“Have you ever worked with him?” Spider-man asked, curious about the emphasis she seemed to put on that last sentence. Like she couldn’t figure out how Clint could put up with him.

She shuddered. “I cannot work with him. He drives me nuts. He never shuts up.” She sighed. “But he asked me one time to help a woman he’d saved from an abusive relationship. I started teaching her some self-defense, and I helped her out with some self-esteem issues. Then, it grew. Now I teach a women’s self-defense class every weekend and he brings me people he finds who need it. He covers the costs of everything, so the victims don’t have to worry about anything. He even volunteers to be the target when they need to practice, so they know what I’m teaching them will work on someone bigger and stronger than they are.” 

Spider-man looked at her thoughtfully. “So, you do kind of work with him.”

She shrugged. “As long as I don’t have to listen to him.” She got to her feet. “Well. I have to head back home. Have a good evening, Spider-man.” And she walked off silently.

Spider-man turned back to the city, trying not to think how she’d tracked him down so quickly. He hadn’t even known he was going to land on this roof. He mentally shook himself, then swung off the roof, looking for some crime to deal with.


	7. Roof tops, Full Moons, and a Deal with the Deadpool

Aunt May used to tell him that the superstition about people going crazy during a full moon must have some basis in fact, because the number of people who came into the ER always spiked right around a full moon. He hadn’t noticed any correlation between increased crime and the full moon, but then he didn’t really pay any attention to when the moon was full. Sometimes, some nights, it seemed like all the criminals decided jointly to just run around and wreak havoc on the city.

Unfortunately, those nights far too often coincided with his exam schedule. The more he needed to study, the more crooks hit the streets. He had a major paper due in two days and had barely half of it written. So of course, he’d stopped three muggings, a rape, and was now following some really suspicious guys headed towards the docks. Seriously, these guys looked like they shopped at mobsters-are-us. But he couldn’t just web them up for their clothing choices; though what they were wearing could be considered a crime against fashion. 

They met up with an equally suspicious looking bunch outside of an abandoned warehouse. That right there should be enough to lock them up for, but Spider-man knew if he didn’t get them doing something more, the cops wouldn’t even bring them in for questioning. So he settled down on the roof, peering over the edge to watch.

“What’s so interesting?” The voice on side of him startled him so badly he nearly jumped off the building. 

Heart racing, Spider-man rolled on his side to see Deadpool lying next to him on the edge of the building, chin resting on his crossed arms. How had he not heard the man arrive? And why the heck hadn’t his spider sense warned him someone was coming? “Pool? What are you doing here?” 

“Saw you creeping along following someone. Thought I’d see if you needed some help.” Deadpool shrugged. “Didn’t have anything else going on.”

“Hmm.” Spider-man answered, trying to calm his heart down. “These guys looked suspicious.” He rolled back and nodded to the group meeting below.

Deadpool snickered. “They look like something out of a rent-a-thug catalog.” 

“I know. Might as well have ‘up to no good’ painted on their backs.” Spider-man snickered. “So I followed them.” He shrugged. 

“So, drugs or weapons?” Deadpool asked. 

“I’m gonna go with drugs.” Spider-man said. “Don’t look like the weapons kind.”

“Hmm. So that leaves me with drugs.” Deadpool said. “What do I get if I win?”

“Loser buys the tacos.” Spider-man said. 

“Mmm. I’m gonna say no. Broke college students can’t afford tacos for me. Loser has to buy dessert.”

“Okay. Loser buys dessert.” The two shook, then turned back to the meeting. The men below had gotten through the greet and threaten portion of their meeting and had moved into the actual business portion. Only after the money discussion, when the second group opened the truck, it contained several young girls. 

“Shit. Sorry, baby boy. Not sure I can play by your rules on this one.” Deadpool growled. “I do not like scum like this.”

“Pool, the girls come first. And if you kill them all, we’ll never know if there are more.” Spider-man warned, grabbing the man’s shoulder. 

Deadpool jerked away from him. “They don’t deserve to breathe.” He snarled.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Spider-man insisted, trying to keep his voice calm. “But we need to get the girls safe and find out if there are any more.”

Deadpool turned and glared at him. He could feel the glare through the mask, and for the first time he understood what made Deadpool so dangerous.

“Pool…” he pled. “Help me out on this. Rescue the girls, then we question the men and see if there are any others. I’d never be able to sleep if there were others and we didn’t save them too.”

Deadpool dropped his head back to his arms for a minute, then looked back at Spider-man. “Okay. We do it your way. But if it comes down to one of those girls or any of that slime, I am not pulling punches.”

Spider-man nodded. “Okay. That’s all I can ask.”

Deadpool took a deep breath. “Let’s go.” 

The fight was the most stressful Spider-man ever remembered being in. Part of him wanted to watch everything Deadpool did. He still wasn’t feeling any threat toward himself, but he really didn’t want to see the thugs die. And Deadpool was being brutal. He wasn’t killing, but he sure as heck wasn’t pulling punches. When he hit, his target went _down_. 

It was over fast, everyone either unconscious or webbed up. Spider-man grabbed a phone off of one thug and called the police. Deadpool was pacing back and forth, growling and muttering to himself. The webbed up thugs cowered away from him. Spider-man couldn’t blame them, even though his spider sense didn’t detect any danger to himself, he could feel the threat rolling off the man. He made it through the call, letting them know what was going on.

“Pool,” he called tentatively. The man’s head snapped up and fixed on him. “We need to find out if there are more girls.” He said quietly. 

Deadpool looked around the group of webbed up and still conscious thugs. One in particular cowered away from him, looking absolutely terrified. “Him.” He snarled. Then grabbed the man by the neck and lifted him up, slamming him against the wall. Seconds later, a knife was against his neck.

“Excuse me.” Spider-man walked up next to Deadpool, but addressed the terrified thug. “I suggest you answer my questions and don’t lie. My friend here is a little upset by human traffickers. He’s agreed to play by my rules for now, but I can’t guarantee he won’t do more damage if you lie.”

The man nodded as much as he could while held by his neck. Spider-man glanced at Deadpool. He wasn’t even struggling to hold the man up like that. He could have been holding a kitten for all the effort it was taking. And now was _not_ the time to be getting turned on. He needed to stay calm for all of them, if he wanted this to end without blood. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

“Okay. So, here’s the thing.” Spider-man glanced briefly at Deadpool to make sure he was still in control. “We want to know where you got the girls. Are there more?”

The man opened his mouth, then glanced around at the other thugs, and snapped it closed.

“Look, I don’t think you should really worry about them. They’re going to end up in jail for quite a while. I think you need to worry about the man holding you up by the neck right now.” Spider-man pointed out. “He’s playing nice as a favor to me, but I can tell he’s losing it right now.” He glanced pointedly at Deadpool, pulling the thug’s eyes back to the merc. “So I recommend you answer me and let me know what you know about where the girls come from.”

The man looked at him, at Deadpool, then spilled his guts. 

When the man stopped talking, Deadpool dropped him and strode off. Spider-man ran after him and grabbed his arm. “Pool, wait.”

Deadpool shook his head. “No, Spidey, you don’t want to be part of this. Just drop it. Make sure the girls are safe.”

“But…” Spider-man wanted to argue. But he knew by the time the police could move on any info from the thugs, the other girls would be gone or dead. “Pool…” He knew it was probably hopeless, but he had to try.

Deadpool stopped and dropped his head back. “What, Spidey?”

“I know you have to do this, just… try to not kill everyone. Okay? Just promise me you’ll try?”

Deadpool dropped his head forward and groaned. “You play dirty, Spidey, you know that? Okay. I promise. I will _try_ not to kill everyone. I will _try_ to turn the assholes over to the police. I will _try_.” He turned and glared. “But you’re going to owe me big time.”

Spider-man nodded. “Thanks, Pool.”

And then Deadpool was gone. 

Spider-man stayed and made sure everyone was turned over to the police. He told them what they found out about the bigger conspiracy, but didn’t mention Deadpool at all. He figured they might find out from the thugs, but he wasn’t going to say anything.


	8. With great power comes great responsibility, but at least I'll have great hair

He didn’t hear from Deadpool after, but he saw on the news that the police had taken down a ring of human traffickers. An unidentified caller had reported it to the police, and they had arrived to find a room full of unconscious and beaten men, and several terrified girls and women. The police weren’t looking for whoever had taken down the ring and turned them in; they had too much on their plate just processing the thugs. 

Peter read the report at work and was relieved that Deadpool had done his best to keep the thugs alive. And he really owed the merc. He had seen how angry Deadpool was, and somehow the merc had kept himself just this side of the law just because Spider-man had asked him to.

But after that, Deadpool seemed to disappear. Spider-man watched for him and had even swung by the safe house they’d met at. But it was dark and empty. Two weeks passed, and he was beginning to think that Deadpool had left the city for good. He felt a little guilty—maybe he’d pushed him too hard. Maybe he thought he had to follow Spider-man’s rules all the time, or he couldn’t even visit the city. And while he really didn’t want the man to kill, he knew that he couldn’t expect everyone else to live up to his morals. It would hypocritical to expect Deadpool to be perfect, when he knew darn well that the Avengers were willing to kill. Shield did frequently. Both organizations felt that sometimes it was better for the general good if the victim didn’t survive. Holding Deadpool to a higher standard wasn’t fair. 

He decided that the next time he saw Deadpool, if he saw Deadpool, he was going to tell the man that. Deadpool was one of the few people he knew who really stood up for the underdogs, and he didn’t want them to lose a champion. 

****

Sometimes, because he’s good with tech, the Avengers ask him to help on their missions. This time, Stark was overseas, and they needed someone with some technical skills. Steve had called and asked if he would be available. Spider-man actually enjoyed working with Steve and Bucky, and agreed with no hesitation.

Steve and Bucky always ran very organized missions. This one was no different; they were in and out quickly (well, once they located the facilities), and all Spider-man had to do was install some bugs that would feed all their data to Shield servers for analysis. 

On the ride back, Spider-man stared out the window of the quinjet and thought about Deadpool. Sighing, and not wanting to run over the entire issue again, he spun around and turned to Bucky.

“Bucky,” He started, then wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

Bucky looked at him, curiously. “Yeah?”

He sighed. “Have you done any jobs with Deadpool?” He asked hesitantly.

“Deadpool?” Bucky’s voice was rough. Spider-man wasn’t sure if that was his normal voice, or if it was just like that, because he didn’t talk very often.

“Yeah. Deadpool. I’ve run into him a few times. Stark had me thinking the man was a psychopath, but…” Spider-man shrugged. “He’s not what I expected.”

Bucky grinned. “I always love when he shows up. Pisses Stark off to no end.” 

Steve snorted. “Bucky’s a big fan of anything that irritates Stark.”

“Can you blame me? The man seems to think that the world revolves around him.” Bucky retorted. 

Steve grinned. “So, yeah, Bucky’s a big fan of anyone who’s willing to walk in and make fun of Stark right to his face.”

“I especially love all the ridiculous names he comes up with for him.” Buck laughed. “Iron Douche is probably my favorite.”

Steve turned to Spider-man. “But I guess your questions go a little deeper than how entertaining he can be.”

“Stark says he’s a ruthless killer that will do anything for money.” Spider-man said slowly. “But… Well, I was on a job with him and he went miles out of his way to help some security guard. And when we stumbled on a human trafficking ring, and I asked him to try not to kill everyone, he disabled the entire group and called in the police.” He shrugged. “He did hit them really hard, but even I was having a hard time not beating the crap out of those guys.”

Bucky looked at him for a long time. Spider-man was getting a little nervous before the man finally cleared his throat and starting talking. “Deadpool has some serious issues.” He said slowly. “But he knows it, and he’s really been trying to get better. The problem is, if you were a serious danger at one point, people aren’t that good about letting go of that.”

Spider-man glanced at Steve, who was looking really tense, then back at Bucky. He knew a little about Bucky’s history, and how hard he’d worked to recover himself. And he also knew how hard it had been for both Steve and Bucky. 

“Yeah.” Spider-man sighed. “And even if you don’t have a history, if someone in power hates you enough, it’s still going to be hard.”

Bucky snorted. “I guess you’d know about that. The thing is, Deadpool’s got problems. Some times he has a really hard time keeping it together. But from what I’ve seen, when it’s really bad, he takes it out on himself. I know he’s killed himself more than once. He’s not going to go out and kill random people or shoot up a mall.”

Spider-man stared at him, shocked. Deadpool killed himself? More than once he’s killed himself? He knew the man had issues, but that was worse than he’d ever imagined. How bad was what he went through? How bad were those voices in his head? 

“Spider-man,” Steve said. “Just because he’s not likely to shoot up a mall, doesn’t mean he’s a good guy to hang around with. You might want to learn more about his background before you decide you want him in your life. I can get you access to his file and you can…”

“No.” Spider-man put up his hand. “No, I don’t want that. It’s his life, his story. If he wants to share it with me, that’s fine. I’m not going behind his back and reading information people collected on him without his permission.” 

“But…” Steve protested. “It can…”

“No, Steve.” Spider-man shook his head. “I get what you’re saying. But how’d you feel if…” Then he glanced at Bucky and decided he really didn’t want to finish that thought. “Never mind. Just no.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.” Then he grinned. “I didn’t really think you’d agree.” 

“I did do a job for Deadpool, once.” Bucky says. 

“You did?” Steve asked, surprised.

Bucky nodded. “He had reports that a group were charging shop owners for protection. It was back when I was still… a little shaky around people. So I agreed to stay in the area at night when no one was around and just watch out for people trying to attack the stores. Had to fight off a few, and then he collected enough information on the group to get them all arrested.” He shrugged. “Seems like a smart guy to me, and the shop owners really appreciated what he did for them.”

“Did he charge them?” Spider-man asked, curious.

Bucky laughed. “He told all of them to give him a discount on their services. He now has a permanent 25% discount at a braiding salon.”

Steve and Spider-man laughed, too.

After that, the conversation turned to random things. But Spider-man’s thoughts kept returning to Deadpool.


	9. You show me yours and I'll show you mine

The next time Spider-man saw Deadpool was because Deadpool found him. Spider-man was on a rooftop, debating if he wanted to go home or swing around just a little longer. It was late, and he hadn’t seen many crimes to stop. While he should be happy that things were peaceful, it always put him a little on edge, worrying about whether or not he’d missed something.

“Spidey!” He recognized Deadpool’s voice immediately, but he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t heard the man come up behind him. Shaking his head, he turned around.

“Hey, Pool. Haven’t seen you in a while.” 

Deadpool shrugged. “Been off on a job out of country for Shield. No worries! No killing involved. Though I got to blow up a bunch of things.” 

Spider-man laughed. “You do seem like the kind who would like explosions.”

“Was just going to get something to eat. Interested in joining me? Haven’t had a decent taco in ages.” Deadpool asked.

“Sure. But I owe you from last time.” Spider-man said. 

“No, you don’t.” Deadpool scoffed. “We were both wrong.”

“Then I owe you for what you did when you took down that trafficking ring.” Spider-man insisted.

Deadpool looked at him, then sighed. “No, you don’t. I did do it because you asked, but you don’t owe me for wanting me to be a better person. Besides, we’ve had this discussion before. Starving college students don’t buy food for enhanced humans who can easily eat their weight in tacos.”

Spider-man sighed. “Well, then, thank you. I’m glad you left them alive.”

Deadpool laughed. “They weren’t too happy about it. I took all their clothes and left them tied up. I’m sure it was really embarrassing. I kind of see the appeal of your approach. You want to come with me and get tacos? I’m sure Araceli would be happy to see you.”

Spider-man agreed, then swung the two of them off to the same taco restaurant they’d visited before. And again, they were greeted by everyone. Spider-man was pretty sure they were complaining about how long it had been since Deadpool had visited. Then the grandmotherly woman from last time came up and addressed Spider-man.

“You! I have told you to come in, and you have not been back. You don’t like my food? You tell me what you like, I fix it!”

“No!” Spider-man protested. “I loved your food! I’m just very busy! I haven’t had a chance to come here again!”

She looked at him skeptically. 

“Really! Tell her, Pool. Didn’t I like her food?” He felt as guilty as he would if he’d insulted aunt May.

Deadpool came up behind him and spoke to the woman rapidly in Spanish. She replied sharply, but then started smiling, and smiled at Spider-man. “He says you especially liked my burritos. I make you chorizo and chicken burritos tonight.” And she strode off into the back room, calling out to the staff back there.

Spider-man looked at Deadpool. “What did you say to her?”

Deadpool laughed. “I told here that when you are not in costume, you are very, very busy studying because you are very smart. And I told her you loved her food, and it was your idea to come here tonight.”

“I feel like I’d feel if I’d insulted my aunt.” Spider-man said. 

“She has that effect on everyone. Five minutes around her and suddenly she’s your new grandma.” Deadpool grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “You should really come here, though. She’ll give you a good discount since you are a student. She approves of people who study hard.”

Spider-man nodded. “I’ll have to remember that. The food is definitely worth it.”

Then the woman was back, speaking rapid fire Spanish and shoving bags into Deadpool’s arms. She showed one to Spider-man and said “For you” before shoving the bag into Deadpool’s arms with the others. Then she smiled at both of them, before turning to her staff and ordering everyone back to work. (Or at least that’s what he assumed she was yelling. He _really_ needed to work on his Spanish.)

He swung them back onto a roof with a good view, and they settled with their backs against the roof access and dug into the food.

“Were you anywhere interesting?” Spider-man asked, rolling up his mask, and debating what to eat first.

“Not really. Well, I was in Guatemala, which is a beautiful country. But I spent most of my time hiking through deep jungle where the view was just trees, trees, vine, trees, and an occasional river.” Deadpool shrugged. “Someday I’d like to visit some of these places when I can go into the villages and talk to the people who live there. I’m sure they have fascinating stories.”

Spider-man shrugged. “I’ve never been out of the state. I think it would be interesting.”

“You get a different view of travel once you’ve done it enough. And when you’re never traveling for fun.” Deadpool sounded a little dejected.

“What was your favorite place to visit?” Spider-man asked.

“Hmmm. I liked Mexico. The food was amazing.” Deadpool said, then took an enormous bite of his taco.

Spider-man laughed. “I bet you did. I imagine they really have tacos down to an art.”

Deadpool grinned at him. “That they did Spidey.” He paused for a moment. “So who’s this aunt you’re afraid of insulting?” 

Spider-man looked at him, debating how much he could risk telling him. “My parents died when I was really little.” He said slowly, deciding that if Deadpool was as good as they said, he could have found Peter any time he wanted. And part of him wanted to tell Deadpool more about himself. “My aunt and my uncle took me in and raised me. They were great. But….” He sighed. “Then I got bit by a spider and got my powers and turned into a selfish jerk.” He looked out over the city. “My uncle was trying to help me out and ended up getting killed. So it was just me and my Aunt.” His voice trailed off, he wasn’t quite sure how to go on.

“Wow.” Deadpool said. “That’s a rough origin story. Do you see your aunt still?”

Spider-man nodded. “Yeah, not as often as I’d like, but I do.”

Deadpool grinned. “So is she the reason you’re so protective of your identity?”

“Yeah. After my uncle died, Gwen died, and then Harry…” He broke off. “It’s just too dangerous to let anyone near me, and I can’t let anyone know and…” He stopped when he realized his heart rate was going up and he was starting to sound a little panicked.

“Whoa, that’s okay, Spidey. I understand.” Deadpool said. “No need to panic. Family is important.”

Spider-man nodded. “Yeah. How about you?” He asked thickly. “Tragic backstory?”

“The usual. Fell in love, got cancer. Signed up for a cure that turned me into a psychotic freak. Girlfriend got turned against me. Can’t die, but got extra voices in my head. Oh, and I look like a cross between Freddy Krueger and a Shar-Pei, but not so cuddly.” Deadpool’s voice sounded light, in stark contrast to what he was saying.

“Ouch.” Spider-man said, shocked out of feeling bad for himself. 

Deadpool snorted. “Ouch? That’s the best you can do? Really? _Ouch_?” And he started laughing.

Spider-man stared at him in shock, then started laughing himself. Before long they were both laughing so hard they could barely sit up straight and slumped back against the wall.

Eventually they both stopped laughing, but stayed there against the wall.

“Well, I think that’s enough serious for the night.” Deadpool said. “What’s your favorite pizza topping?”

They spent the rest of the time talking about totally random things and finishing the food. When they finished eating, Spider-man was surprised to find he wanted to stay, but he knew he needed to get some sleep.

“Well, Pool…” He sighed, stuffing all the bags together. “I have to head home and sleep.”

“No worries.” Deadpool laughed. “Can’t have you falling behind in your classes. Gotta keep up to speed on all the latest tech or Weasel won’t let you help on missions.”

Spider-man smiled, though he knew Deadpool couldn’t see. “Yeah, can’t have that.” He webbed the garbage into a bundle and hung it over his shoulder, planning on throwing it out when he got home. He hesitated for another minute, then realized he really needed to sleep. If he left now, he might have four hours of sleep before he had to head in to class. “Okay. See you.” He stammered, suddenly feeling extremely awkward and webbed away before he did anything more to embarrass himself.


	10. Can you say Hypocrisy? I knew you could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry! This quarantine lockdown stuff is making me lose track of what day it is, and I completely forgot that yesterday was Thursday. Here's the next chapter a day late...

There are times Spider-man loves New York. And there are times, like today, that he thinks it might be a good idea to just move down to Florida. Or maybe Ohio. Some place where aliens and supervillains don’t feel they need to attack on a biweekly schedule.

The villain du jour is some guy who can control insects. And if you don’t think that’s a problem, you are clearly unaware of just how many insects are living in New York city at any given time. Between bees and cockroaches and ants, the man has armies. Not _an_ army, but _multiple_ armies. 

Scott Lang was sulking, because his pet ant had abandoned him as soon as he showed up. And if Spider-man had to hear one more hero jokingly ask him if they had to worry about him falling under the man’s control, he was going to go over to the dark side. This would be his villain origin story. Driven insane by so-called heroes who thought they were funny.

Not to mention, fighting literal insects was tough. You could squash an individual insect easily, but a five foot wide carpet of angry ants? Not so easy to take down. They went through nets and fences as if nothing was blocking their route. Most of the heroes’ weapons were too focussed to be effective. They could hit hard, but only in a small area. They squashed a few of the insects, and the rest just ran up their arms and legs, biting and stinging as they went.

Spider-man was doing slightly better—he’d quickly adjusted his webs to be stickier and wider. He basically was laying down fly paper so that any insect that crossed his web, stuck. The problem was, the next insect climbed over the stuck insect and _didn’t_ stick. He was trapping a lot, but even more were just marching on.

Humans, covered with biting, stinging insects can die from the bites. Or suffocate because they couldn’t breathe through the mass of insects. After discovering that, the team had quickly switched to containing the insects as best they could and getting all the humans out of the area as quickly as possible.

Spider-man, who was somewhat effective at stopping the insects, was on the offensive team, while other heroes, like Captain America, were on rescuing people.

Spider-man was spraying webs as thickly as he could from one side of the street to the other, to stop the insects, when Deadpool arrived. 

“Spidey!” 

Spider-man glanced over his shoulder and saw the Merc approaching. “Hey Pool.” He turned back to the street and added another row of webbing. “Got any weapons that will work on insects?”

“Of course I do.” The man laughed. Then there was a _whumph_ , followed by an odd hissing. Spider-man glanced over to see the man pointing a flamethrower towards the carpet of insects approaching the webs.

In seconds, the insects curled up and died. The merc raked the flames back and forth across the insects and kept walking forward. Spider-man gaped. Deadpool was actually making advances on the bugs. They were burning faster than the ranks behind could advance.

“Got any more of those?” Spider-man asked. 

“Sure do, cutie.” Deadpool replied. “I see you’re still having a turf war with the insects. You arachnids. Think you and your eight legs are better than their six legs.” He paused his flame thrower and pulled another out of his pack, handing it over to Spider-man. “You really need to learn to get along with others, Spidey.”

Spider-man gaped at him. “They’re controlled by a man. Who only has _two_ legs.” Inside he was just happy that for once he wasn’t being accused of being an insect.

“Switch there to start the gas, pull that to ignite.” Deadpool pointed quickly.

Spider-man followed his instructions, and seconds later was sweeping the flames across the other half of the street, burning the insects faster than they could advance. 

“Keep the flames on a low angle.” Deadpool called to him. “Try and keep from letting the flame hit the road directly. And don’t hit any cars or buildings.”

Spider-man nodded and tilted the nozzle so the flame was mostly parallel to the pavement.

Other superheroes saw what they were doing and adapted their own attacks to work more effectively. Ant-man sized up a can and used it as a roller to crush what it ran over. Stark adjusted his blasters to go wider and with less force, destroying swaths of the bugs. Captain America knocked open fire hydrants and washed hordes down the streets and into the sewer system.

With the new attacks, they drove the insects back far enough that they were able to attack the villain, and bring him down. And as soon as he was under control, the insects wandered off and went back to whatever they were doing before the man had taken them over.

Spider-man wasn’t sure he’d ever get over knowing just how many insects were crawling around the city, just out of sight. He wanted to scrub his entire apartment down with bleach. He groaned and stretched his back. He wasn’t used to carrying around and using a flamethrower.

“Well, that worked well.” Deadpool said, grinning at him.

“Yeah, I think that pretty much turned the tide. Glad you showed up.” Spider-man said. 

Deadpool nodded. “Hard to fight things that are too small to hit. Well, I’m going to get out of here before the people in charge realize I’m here.”

Spider-man unslung the flamethrower. “Here, thanks again.” He handed the equipment back and Deadpool returned it to the bag on his back. Spider-man watched, impressed. That thing was heavy and awkward, and Deadpool was stowing it away with no problem.

“See you later, Spidey.” Deadpool mock saluted him and jogged off.

Just in time. As he disappeared down an alley, Spider-man saw a group approaching. Fury, Tony Stark, and Captain America walked up towards him, and none of them looked too happy.

“Why did you invite that guy.” Tony demanded as soon as they were close.

“You mean Deadpool?” Spider-man asked. “I didn’t. He just showed up. And it’s a good thing…”

“A good thing?” Tony cut him off and laughed bitterly. “He’s never a good thing.”

“Stark,” Fury said. He sounded like he was trying to calm the other man down. 

“He’s a maniac and a psychopath.” Tony spat. “And if you’re going to be bringing him, don’t show up.”

Spider-man had been going to explain, but now? Now he was too angry. Stark just assumed that he had brought Deadpool, and he just assumed that if Deadpool was around, it was going to go badly. Who the hell was he to hold one mistake against someone like that? “I did not invite Deadpool, I don’t even know how to reach him.” He stepped closer to Stark. “And it’s a darn good thing he showed up. We weren’t making any headway. He brought flamethrowers, which helped enormously. And once everyone saw they were working, they adapted, and we won.” 

“We would have figured it out on our own.” Stark scoffed. “We don’t need a nut job like that to help us.”

“But we didn’t figure it out on our own. And how many more people was it okay to let die while we tried?” Spider-man snapped. 

“Spider-man, you have to admit, flamethrowers are dangerous.” Captain America pointed out.

Spider-man looked at him in disbelief. “Unlike Iron Man’s blasters? Unlike Thor’s lightning bolts? Unlike the HULK?” 

Captain America looked slightly guilty, but then replied. “But they’re heroes.”

“I see. So, you use Deadpool, but only under your terms and when it’s a job, you don’t want to do yourselves. But if he shows up and does something good to help, you don’t want him around.” Spider-man said, voice cold.

Stark nodded. “If it was up to me, that monster would be locked up.”

“And we only give second chances to mercenaries and assassins that have Stark’s approval.” Spider-man added, glancing between Fury and Captain America. Fury’s face didn’t change, but Captain America at least had the decency to flinch at that. “Well, if that’s the way you run the Avengers, I’m glad I never joined. And if you don’t want me around, I’ll stay away.” Spider-man looked at Captain America. “But you, who claim to be such a strong supporter of justice, might want to look up the meaning of the word hypocrite.” And with that, he swung away from the group without looking back. 


	11. What we've got here is failure to communicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, not only have I forgotten what day it is, now I've apparently goofed up which story gets updated on which day. BUT this one hasn't been updated in a week, even though it says Circus is supposed to be updated... Either way, here's a new chapter! *nervous jazz hands*

It was nearly a week after his… disagreement with Stark and friends, and Spider-man was still twitchy with anger any time he thought of either them, or Deadpool. As a result, he’d been throwing himself into work, study, and patrol, trying to keep himself too busy to do (or say) anything else, and make things even worse.

Not that he regretted standing up to them. He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. He just would have liked to have said it more calmly rather than practically spitting in Stark’s face. It was one thing to storm off angrily; it was another to burn all the bridges behind you. Aunt May would be _so_ disappointed.

He sighed where he was sitting on the edge of a building, catching his breath after breaking up a battle between two men arguing over who had the rights to sell drugs on a certain street corner. He’d solved the disagreement by leaving both of them for the police to lock up.

Unfortunately, his over-working himself wasn’t actually helping with the issue. It was just making him more tired. On the plus side, he’d actually caught up on his studying. But he was finding he needed to take more short breaks to catch his breath, and he was pretty sure his healing was being impacted. He glanced at a nearby clock billboard and saw it was only a little after midnight. He couldn’t really justify heading in to sleep just yet, and tomorrow was Saturday and he could sleep in then if he wanted. 

He decided to stick it out a little longer, but maybe grabbing a coffee would help with the groggy-ness.

He swung down to a nearby coffee shop and bought himself a cup of coffee. Swinging with coffee was a good way to (at worst) burn himself or (at best) stain his uniform. So he crawled up the side of the building before perching on the edge and opening his coffee.

He could understand being careful about Deadpool. If the man was a mercenary and was willing to kill, then that was definitely problematic. But Natasha and Clint had both been assassins. Well, _were_ assassins. They still did a lot of work for Shield, and Shield often preferred permanent solutions to locking people up. 

He could also understand Stark disliking Deadpool. Besides the incident Natasha had mentioned, he knew very well Stark hated when people disagreed with him. While Stark often made jokes at the expense of other people, he _really_ hated being the butt of them himself. Deadpool was, from what he’d seen, prone to argue with everyone and fond of giving people ridiculous nicknames. 

What he _couldn’t_ understand is why the others, especially the ones who worked with Deadpool, never defended him or gave him a chance. Why did they all, despite what they’d seen, just go along with Stark? 

He groaned and looked over the edge. He was not supposed to be obsessing over this. He gulped down the last of his coffee. Even if he didn’t feel a lot more awake, at least it had warmed him up. He swung down low enough to drop the empty cup into a trash can, then headed back to patrol.

Unfortunately for his peace of mind, he didn’t see anything needing his attention and his thoughts kept racing around the confrontation over and over. Part of him worried because he already had Jameson bad-mouthing him at every turn. He didn’t need the Avengers against him too. Part of him was feeling guilty about how he’d let his temper get the best of him. And part of him just wanted a nap.

Then, he heard someone yelling out in pain and switched direction quickly. _Finally,_ something else to focus on.

He swung into a dark, dead-end alley between two apartment buildings and stopped in shock. A helpless man was being beaten, begging and screaming for someone to help. And the one hitting him, one katana drawn, was Deadpool.

Deadpool was far more grim than Spider-man had ever seen him. “Not good enough.” He snarled, raising the blade over his head. 

“Pool!” He yelled, panicked. He webbed the blade and yanked it out of the merc’s hand. “What the heck!”

Deadpool didn’t even turn to face him. “Not now, Spidey. I’ve got some business to take care of, and it’s not your kind of job.”

Spider-man was suddenly furious. Here he’d been defending this man, hell he’d yelled at _Captain America_. And Deadpool was murdering some random helpless man in an alley. Why hadn’t he listened when everyone warned him?

“Cut it out, Pool. You can’t just run around and kill people.” Spider-man snarled. “What did he do to you? Or did someone just offer you enough money that it doesn’t matter?” In seconds, he had the merc webbed against the wall and rushed to check on the man.

“Are you okay?” He asked the clearly terrified man.

“He’s crazy. He was going to kill me.” The man whimpered, curling around himself. “I think he broke my arm.”

Spider-man straightened up and glared at the merc. “What the heck, Deadpool? You can’t just go around killing random people.”

Deadpool snorted. “Does he look dead? He doesn’t sound dead.” Then the merc shook his head and turned away, muttering to himself.

Spider-man leaned over and tried to help the man to his feet, but the man screamed when he tried to put weight on his leg. “I think your leg’s broken.” Spider-man said. “Sit back down. I’ll call an ambulance. Where’s your phone?” 

The man groaned and gingerly reached around, checking his pockets. Spider-man watched nervously, then took the phone when it was offered. 

He turned away and jogged to the end of the alley to see what street they were on. He glared at Deadpool as he passed. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

He got to the end of the alley, checked the streets, and starting to dial. He’d gotten as far as 9-1 when he heard another scream and snapped his eyes back to the man he’d left huddled on the ground.

Deadpool stood over the man, one hand holding him up by his neck, one fist pulled back ready to punch. Before Spider-man could react, Deadpool swung at the man, fist hitting the side of his head with a terrifying thud. The man went limp, and Deadpool glanced at him and dropped him to the ground.

“Deadpool!” Spider-man sprinted towards them.

“Don’t worry. He’s not dead.” Deadpool snarled. 

“What…” Spider-man hesitated. What should he do? Deadpool had gotten out of his webs so fast. And with no noise. He looked at the merc nervously, then dropped to his knees and checked the man’s pulse. He was still alive, and breathing well. He looked up at Deadpool.

“Yeah. Figured you’d be like all the others.” Deadpool muttered. “Never give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m clearly the bad guy. After all, I’m just a merc.” Then he strode off quickly.

Spider-man stood, watching him go, not sure what was going on. He’d thought Deadpool was assassinating someone, and he couldn’t just stand by and watch the man _kill_ someone. But he’d left the man alive. 

He sighed, anger ebbing a little, and he decided he didn’t have time to think about it. The guy on the ground needed medical attention, bad guy or not.

He finished calling the police, telling them he needed an ambulance for someone who’d been attacked. But the sound of Deadpool’s voice kept bother him. The marc had sounded so angry, and of all things _hurt,_ that Spider-man had tried to stop him. 

When the police and an ambulance showed up, Spider-man told them he’d found the man beaten up in the alley, but whoever had attacked him had gotten away before he arrived. The other man had looked so bad he’d called for help. The police nodded, looked around briefly, and then left. The paramedics loaded the man into the ambulance and left. Spider-man felt a little better, since the sirens weren’t on. Meant he wasn’t life or death.

He decided he’d had enough shocks for one night and turned to head home. And realized he still had the man’s cell phone. He sighed and webbed it to his upper arm, he’d bring it back tomorrow. He should be able to find out where the man lived, or at least what hospital he was in.

He didn’t fall asleep for ages. His mind kept replaying both the confrontation with Stark and the confrontation with Deadpool. Over and over again. Until he finally fell asleep, probably from complete mental exhaustion.


	12. Full opinion, half the facts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really happy with how this chapter turned out... It feels a little rough and rushed. My apologies, but I didn't want to fall behind yet again.

The next morning, Peter crawled out of bed and instantly wanted to crawl back in. He hadn’t slept well at all, and his mind was still a confused mess. He decided he wouldn’t think about it. Any of it. Instead, he’d get up, grab some breakfast and bring the cell phone back to the man Deadpool had attacked. He could claim he found it or just drop it off with someone without leaving a name. 

He found the hospital where the medics had taken the man by reading the police blotter. There wasn’t any other information, but then the police really hadn’t done any investigating. They’d just taken Spider-man’s word that he had found the man unconscious in the alley. 

He briefly debated going over to the hospital as Spider-man, but decided against it quickly. Peter was pretty unremarkable, and whoever saw him would probably forget him. People would remember Spider-man, and he really didn’t want to bring any more attention to himself.

He grabbed a pop-tart and a cup of coffee for breakfast, then headed to the hospital where the man was to drop off the phone and do a little investigating. He grabbed his press ID; it would provide a good excuse when he showed up at the hospital asking questions about a man whose name he didn’t even know.

The nurses were very helpful when he explained he was working on an article. He found out that the John Doe picked up the night before was actually Sam Jensen and was currently in the ICU with a cracked skull, broken leg, and broken arm. His prognosis was good, but he was being kept sedated to reduce the risk from swelling. The list of injuries sickened Peter, but the man _was_ alive. 

What surprised him was that the man hadn’t had any visitors, even though the hospital had notified his wife. Peter thanked the nurses and headed out of the hospital. He quickly searched for the man online and found his address, had two young children, and didn’t live too far away. Peter assumed it must have been difficult for the mother to find a sitter and come visit her husband, and decided to go visit the family. 

The man lived in a nice apartment building, not too far from where he’d found Deadpool hitting the man. He hesitated briefly, not sure how to explain he had the phone. The hospital knew Spider-man had found the man, Peter Parker showing up with the phone might be too suspicious. Then he shrugged mentally. He’d claim he was Peter Parker, journalist, researching a story about Spider-man. And that he’d checked out the site and found the phone.

He found the apartment and knocked on the door. A few minutes later, the door opened. Peter looked down surprised and saw a young girl, around 5 or 6, smiling up at him.

“Uh, hi. Is your mom home?” He asked.

“Nope.” The girl said cheerfully. “She’s at the hospital with Joey. She goes every day at lunchtime.” 

“Um. Didn’t your mom tell you not to open the door for strangers?” He asked curiously.

The little girl shrugged. “I looked through the little window.”

Peter frowned. “But you really shouldn’t open the door when you’re home all by yourself. It’s really not safe. I could be someone scary.”

The girl snorted. “You’re not scary.”

Peter sighed. “Just promise me you won’t open the door for anyone else when your mom’s not here, okay?”

The girl rolled her eyes and Peter almost laughed, but kept his face concerned. Her voice sounded extremely put upon. “So why do you want to talk to Mom?”

“I’m working on a story about Spider-man and I wanted to ask about your dad.” Peter explained. “I was just at the hospital, but I didn’t see her there.”

The little girl’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t go to see _him_.” She retorted. “She goes to see _Joey_.”

Peter tilted his head, confused. “Who’s Joey?” He asked.

“My little brother. He’s in the hospital with a trama.” She frowned. “I’m not old enough to visit. Which is stupid, because I’m older than Joey, and they let him in.” Her frown turned into a scowl. “And I think maybe you _are_ scary. You want to know about _him_.” She slammed the door, and Peter could hear the locked snapping closed from the other side.

He wandered out of the apartment building, puzzled, and still in possession of the man’s phone. He decided he’d just leave it at the hospital. The girl had said her mom was there to see Joey. Maybe he was at the same hospital?

He turned around and headed back to the hospital. But this time, he asked at the information desk about Joey Jensen. They directed to the pediatric wing. 

The nurse at the desk of the pediatric wing, however, told him that Joey couldn’t have any visitors. When asked, she told him the five-year-old was in a coma and being closely observed. He asked if the boy’s mother was available, but the nurse refused to answer.

Sighing, Peter turned around and started back towards the elevator. He had just pushed the button, when a woman walked up and interrupted him, her voice a mix of angry and scared. “Why are you asking about Joey?”

Peter turned in surprise. “A friend found his dad in an alley last night, and we found his phone this morning. I was going to bring it back and found out that Joey was here too. Thought I could drop it off with Joey’s mom.”

The woman grimaced at him. “Oh. _Him_. Leave it with the nurse, drop it on his bed, throw it in the trash for all I care.”

Frowning, Peter asked, “Are you his wife?”

“Thank god, no. That’s my sister. She’s in with Joey. She’s got a restraining order on that monster, after what he did to Joey.”

“What he did?” Peter felt like he was really losing track of this conversation. And something cold was growing in his stomach, telling him he might have screwed up big time.

The woman snorted. “Poor kid has broken bones, and a cracked skull. They’re not sure he’ll recover.” Then she started crying. “They’re keeping him in a coma because they’re worried the swelling might lead to brain damage.”

Peter’s stomach was now a huge frozen ache. “Does he… Does he have a broken leg, and a broken arm?” He asked slowly.

She sniffed and nodded. “And that monster claims he ‘fell down the stairs.’” Her voice twisted in anger. 

“Oh.” Peter said quietly. “I’m so sorry. I won’t disturb your sister, I’ll just leave this with the nurse on his floor.” He held up the phone.

The woman nodded and turned away, heading back to where she had been sitting in the waiting area.

Peter took one last look at the woman, then headed down to the floor where Sam Jensen was, and left the phone with the nurse at the desk. 

Then he headed back home. He’d really screwed up. What Deadpool had done was exactly what that man had done to a _five-year-old boy_. And chances are, it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that. Only, because Spider-man had been there, the _man_ had gotten immediate medical attention. He wondered how long it had been before the little boy had gotten help. 

He didn’t know how Deadpool had found out; maybe the sister had hired him. Maybe he’d just seen the kid and decided to make sure the man never went near him again. 

Peter groaned. Why had he reacted so badly? He knew part of it was being so upset over the previous scene with Stark. Part of it was just being exhausted. But he shouldn’t have said half those things. Why hadn’t he asked? Why hadn’t he given Deadpool a chance to say anything?

He needed to find Deadpool right away and apologize. 


	13. Just Google it, Man

Unfortunately, Deadpool seemed to have just vanished. 

He kept an eye out for the man, but didn’t hear or see him anywhere.

And _Spider-man_ was avoiding the Avengers. Well, that made it sound like more of a big deal than it was. He wasn’t in their part of town very often, and even if he was, they didn’t patrol like he did. The only time their paths crossed was when there was an attack big enough to get the Avenger’s attention. So, the closest he’d actually come to “avoiding” the Avengers was to check the caller ID before he answered his phone. And no surprise, they didn’t call. They really only called when there wasn’t anyone else who could do something, and they needed him.

What did surprise him was that the X-men called. Spider-man had never teamed up with the X-men before. He’d worked with one or another of them before, but the team had never invited him to help with a mission before. Turned out, they were shorthanded and needed someone who could be stealthy and had computer skills, and wanted to know if he’d fill in.

He had no problem agreeing. Even if he didn’t already admire them for how they gave all mutants and mutates a chance, he knew that if he was going to limit his association with the Avengers, he needed to work on strengthening his connections with other teams. He wasn’t crazy enough to think he never needed back up. 

Plus, a part of him hoped that someone on the X-men might have heard from Deadpool. He knew Deadpool had closer ties with them than with the Avengers or Shield. He hoped that if he proved helpful, they might help him get in touch with the merc so he could apologize.

Which was why he was currently sitting in the back of the Blackbird, on the way back to New York. He’d spent three days hunting through the forest with the team, locating and taking down a Hydra base. It had been cold and exhausting, and right now he just wanted to get home and crawl into bed and maybe stay there for a week.

It was late, and he was, despite the noise of the jet, almost asleep when someone startled him awake by sitting down next to him. He tried to pass his sudden jump off as a need to stretch, but based by the low chuckle from Logan, it didn’t work.

“Don’t worry, kid. Just stopped by to see how you’re doing. That one hit was pretty bad.” Logan sprawled back against the seat.

Spider-man shrugged. “I’m fine. My healing’s nowhere near as good as yours, but it’s still accelerated. I’m just sore now. Should be healed before too much longer.”

“Hmm. Good to know. You were a big help.” Logan always made Spider-man a little uncomfortable. He rarely talked, and when he did, it was usually short and angry sounding. 

“Why did you?” Spider-man asked. “I mean, why did you ask me to help? You guys haven’t done that before.”

Logan shrugged. “We were down on team members, and you came highly recommended.”

Spider-man looked at him curiously. “Who recommended me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you know?”

Spider-man shook his head. “Considering I just got into a very loud fight that ended with me telling the Avengers to forget my number, I really don’t know.”

Logan looked almost startled at that. Almost, because the flash of emotion was gone as soon as it appeared. “Deadpool recommended you.”

Spider-man dropped his head in embarrassment. Deadpool was giving him recommendations, and he couldn’t even give the man a minute’s benefit of the doubt. 

“What?” Logan asked.

“Nothing.” Spider-man sighed.

“That’s not a ‘nothing’ look.” Logan prodded.

Spider-man sighed. “First, the fight I had with the Avengers was over Deadpool. They want me to keep away from him because he’s a mercenary.” The anger about that hypocrisy flared again. “But they have members of the team that are or were mercs.” Then his shoulders dropped. “But the real problem is that I found him beating a man in an alley and I got so mad suddenly. I felt like I’d stood up for him and here he was beating innocent men in an alley.” Spider-man looked up and Logan. “I was pretty nasty.”

Logan grimaced. “Ouch. But he is a mercenary. And he does kill people.”

“Yeah, only…” Spider-man glanced up at the ceiling. “Turns out the man was beating a kid. Broke the kid’s arm and leg, and put him in a coma. Deadpool just did to the man exactly what the man did to a five-year-old boy.” He looked at Logan. “If I’d let him say anything, he could have explained. I just assumed the worst.”

Logan was silent for so long, Spider-man was beginning to wonder if he’d offended the X-Man too.

“Look, kid,” Logan sighed finally. “You know you’re Deadpool’s hero, right? When he says he’s trying to be better, what he means is he’s trying to live up to your image.”

“Me?” Spider-man squeaked. “I’m…” His voice faded out as he thought over all the mistakes he’d made.

Logan shrugged. “There’s no accounting for taste.” But he was grinning when he said it. 

“So what do I do?” Spider-man asked.

“Well,” Logan said. “Be Spider-man. Do the right thing.”

Spider-man looked at him. “The right thing?” he asked blankly.

Logan groaned. “I don’t know! I’m not a goody two-shoes pansy-assed hero. What would you do if you treated anyone else like that?”

“Apologize?” Spider-man asked, feeling confused. 

“Are you asking or telling?” Logan snorted.

“I’d apologize.” Spider-man said, trying to sound more definite.

“Good. So do that.” Logan said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” Spider-man sighed. “Just have to find him.”

“Why not just call him?” Logan asked. “It’s what we do.”

“I don’t have his number.”

Logan stared at him. “Seriously? His number’s in the phone book. He has a web page. And I thought you were a good hacker? Isn’t that why we brought you along on this trip?”

“I don’t hack to get people’s personal information.” Spider-man replied. “And it never occurred to me to look online for his phone number…”

Logan snorted. He got to his feet, clearly done with talking to Spider-man, and walked off, leaving Spider-man staring after him in surprise. It had honestly never occurred to him to check online for the man’s number. And now that he thought about it, there were also a bunch of people he could ask for help to find the merc, starting with the people at the Mexican restaurant. He could track down Weasel if he had to. He worked at a bar with a weird name… he couldn’t remember it right now, but he was sure he’d know it if he saw it.

So, get home, crawl into bed for a week, then find Deadpool and apologize. He sighed, leaning back against the window. He just hoped Deadpool could forgive him.


	14. Like Finding a Merc in a Haystack

He didn’t get to sleep a week, but he did sleep long enough that when he dragged himself in to work the next day, he felt halfway human for a change. Jameson only yelled at him briefly, before sending him out to get some background shots for some city-wide improvement program, so he used the time to try to track down Deadpool.

He found a number for the man online, but his calls went straight to voice-mail. Not sure what to say, he didn’t even leave a message. 

He stopped by the Mexican restaurant as Spider-man one night and asked if they had seen him. Araceli said he hadn’t been in recently, but promised to tell Deadpool that Spider-man was looking for him. He debated coming in later as Peter, but decided if he did, people would see too much of a connection between Peter and Spider-man, and someone might figure out who he was.

He called the number again and left a message as Spider-man. But after a week, he still hadn’t gotten a reply. He briefly debated calling every hour on the hour, trying to make himself so annoying that Deadpool answered. He decided irritating the man was not a good way to get a chance to apologize.

Then, he saw Deadpool at a hot dog stand, while he was out as Peter. He decided that he didn’t care if Deadpool figured out he was Spider-man; he needed to let the Deadpool know he had screwed up and was sorry, and hope the man could find it in himself to forgive.

He rushed up and tapped the man on the shoulder. “Excuse me?” He asked, nervously.

Deadpool spun around, hotdogs forgotten, one hand on a gun and the other on the hilt of a katana. Peter felt a brief spike of panic from his spider sense. But almost as fast, Deadpool relaxed and smiled at Peter. “One second, cutie.” He turned back and finished paying for his food, then turned back to face him. “Now, what’s a cute little nerd doing tapping infamous mercenaries on the shoulder?” He asked, sounding amused.

“Ah…” Peter knew he was gaping, but his mind had gone completely blank. He wasn’t sure what he had planned on saying. “Sp-Spider-man..” He stammered nervously then stopped, realizing he couldn’t just announce he was Spider-man on a busy sidewalk.

Deadpool laughed and shook his head. “Sorry, kiddo.” He waved at his costume. “Rookie mistake. Here, I’ll explain how to tell us apart. Kind of like bird spotting. Red and black, that’s me, Deadpool. Spider-man, he’s red and blue. Have to say it looks good on him. Then, if it’s all red with horns on the head, that’s Daredevil.” 

“Oh.” Peter said blankly.

Deadpool reached out and guided Peter away from the cart. “Let’s get out of the way.” He suggested, guiding them into a safe spot against the store fronts next to a trash can where they wouldn’t be in the path of pedestrians. “There’s also the whole travel method. Spider-man is usually up there swinging around on his webs or climbing the walls. ” He took a bite of his hot dog while pointing to the building tops. “Just get to see flashes of color most of the time. Daredevil doesn’t really leave Hell’s Kitchen, and I have no idea how he gets around. For all I know, he uses inter-dimensional portals. Or rides a hellhound. That would fit in with the devil part of his name. Me? I just walk.”

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.” Peter said. “I, um, I have to go.” And he rushed off confused, panicked, and embarrassed. 

At dinner with Aunt May a few days later, he was still embarrassed and frustrated. Unfortunately, May picked up on it immediately and kept at him until he finally confessed.

“I jumped to the wrong conclusion.” He admitted finally. “I thought someone was doing something wrong, didn’t give them the benefit of the doubt, and I really hurt their feelings.” He sighed. “And now they won’t talk to me, so I can’t apologize.”

“Hmmm.” May said, sipping her coffee. “And is this a Peter mistake or a Spider-man mistake” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

“What?” He yelped. 

May sighed. “I’ve been waiting for you to feel comfortable telling me, but I’m pretty sure that’s never going to happen. And since _Peter_ never seems to talk about anyone, I’m guessing this is a Spider-man mistake.”

Peter just gaped at her, then sighed. “Yeah. His name’s Deadpool. He’s a mercenary, but he’s, well, from what I know of him he’s a good guy.” He stopped talking.

“And?” May prompted.

“The Avengers don’t like him, even though the Avengers and Shield hire him all the time. They’ve told Spider-man to stay away from him. Remember that guy who was controlling insects a while back?”

May nodded. “I saw Spider-man on TV that day, along with someone in red and black, using flamethrowers on the bugs.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Deadpool brought the flamethrowers, and that kind of turned the tide for us." He shrugged. “But after the guy was stopped, the Avengers came and told me if I was going to bring Deadpool with me, I wasn’t welcome.” He looked down at his hands. “I kind of… lost my temper and told them if that was the way they felt, I wouldn’t show up.” He winced. “And I called Captain America a hypocrite.”

Aunt May snorted. “Well. Stark seems to think he’s always right. And Captain America sides with Stark far too often for me.” She took another sip of her coffee, then put her cup down. “You, I trust. You have a great instinct for people. If you think he’s a good man, I believe you.”

Peter looked at her, surprised at her response. “You’ve been following the Avengers?”

“Of course I have.” She answered. “I wanted to know as much about what you were dealing with as I could, and _you_ weren’t willing to share.”

Peter ducked his head. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You really think not knowing where you disappeared to at night was going to make me worry less? At least knowing you have improved healing, and other abilities makes it a little easier to watch you go up against those villains all alone.”

Peter smiled sadly. “I guess I just hoped you didn’t know I was out at night.”

May laughed. “Seriously, Peter? You were not very quiet, and you were a terrible liar.” Then she looked serious. “But back to your problem… What happened with this guy?”

Peter sighed. “I saw Deadpool hitting someone, and I… I don’t know what happened. I got so mad at him. I accused him of killing innocent people.” He looked down at his hands. “I had just defended him to the Avengers, and I felt like he’d betrayed me.” He looked up at her. “But the man he was hitting had _really_ hurt a little boy. The kid was in the hospital in a medically induced coma. Pool was… I don’t agree with how he was doing it, but he was just trying to protect the kid and his sister…” He slumped down and knocked his forehead against the table.

“Did he kill the man?” Aunt May asked, sounding much less judgmental than Peter expected.

Peter shook his head. “No. He broke the man’s arm and leg and knocked him out. Just like the man did to the little boy.”

“And after you cooled off and found out what was actually going on, did you apologize?” Aunt May asked.

“That’s the problem.” Peter replied. “I haven’t had a chance to apologize. My calls go straight to voicemail. When I’m out as Spider-man, I can’t find him.”

Aunt May frowned. “Do you think he’s avoiding you?”

Peter nodded. “He must be. I saw him the other day as, well, me, but he doesn’t know Peter, he just knows Spider-man. I even walked up to him and said hi, but as soon as I did, I panicked. Fortunately, he thought I had him confused with Spider-man and explained how to tell all the red suits apart.” He laughed quietly, remembering. 

Aunt May didn’t reply for several minutes, and Peter waited anxiously, pushing food around on his plate.

“So what do I do?” He asked finally.

“I’m not sure there is anything you can do.” She sighed. “It sounds like you hurt his feelings, and it may take a while for him to get over it.”

“I feel terrible about it.” Peter sighed. 

“Be that as it may, he doesn’t owe you a chance to apologize.” May said. “If he needs time, you need to let him have time.” She shrugged. 

Peter groaned.

May smiled at him. “Not the answer you wanted?”

Peter shook his head. “No. He’s doing a lot of good, and I don’t want him to think I disapprove of him.”

“Well, give it some time. “ May replied. “Now, how about some pie for dessert?”


	15. The wild Spideymon has hurt itself in its confusion

While Peter is good at a lot of things—multi-tasking, fighting thieves, making bad jokes—one thing he’s _not_ good at doing is sitting around when he could do something. So, following Aunt May’s advice and just waiting for Deadpool to get back to him was never _really_ going to happen.

He figured the best way to get to Deadpool was to find Weasel. Which is why he was currently searching the internet to find “bars with weird names in New York.” So far he’d found _Otto’s Shrunken Hea_ d, _No Fun_ and _Burp Castle_. But no luck finding anything that sounded right. 

He tried searching for “Weasel,” but found way too many articles on tiny carnivores. Not very helpful, but at least the pictures were cute. And “Weasel and crime” found a large number of mafia mobsters with the nickname Weasel. Peter hadn’t realized how popular the nickname was. 

Exasperated, he debated heading over and asking Clint. But he was still too upset to deal with the Avengers. Well, fortunately there was another way to get the info he needed.

Fifteen minutes later he was in Shield’s system, searching for Weasel. Okay, so that explained why he couldn’t find the bar. Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children was _technically_ a bar, in that they sold drinks, but it was better known for being a job agency for mercenaries. Considering the place was full of criminals, there was no way Spider-man could go in there looking for either Deadpool or Weasel. 

Peter groaned. He was going to have to go in as Peter. And he really wasn’t looking forward to that. His usual cover, carrying a camera and a press pass, was probably not the safest choice for investigating a building full of criminals, some of whom might even be actually committing crimes at the time.

Well, maybe he could go in as Peter Parker, reporter, but just not bring the camera. He could just get a message to either Weasel or Deadpool. He glanced over at the clock. It was almost 5. If he was going to do this, he should probably do it during the day. Might be a little safer. After all, if he went in as Peter, he couldn’t use his Spidey skills.

He memorized the address, then swung himself close before pulling jeans and a hoodie over his Spider-man suit, tucking his mask into the backpack he’d used to carry his clothes. The trip to the bar was uneventful—there didn’t seem to be anyone else out on the streets. He paused at the door, taking a deep breath, then stepped inside.

Spider-man never visited bars, and Peter rarely did. He’d always assumed they were loud and crowded. This one was dark, quiet, and had several pool tables. And everything seemed to be a little sticky. His shoes were sticking to the ground. He decided it would be safest to avoid sitting down. 

It was also a little creepy. There weren’t that many people in the place, but all of them seemed to be staring right at him. That couldn’t be normal, right? People in bars didn’t just drop all conversations any time someone walked it. On the other hand, maybe it was better if it was normal… If not, that meant they were just staring at him?

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” A huge man with a beard and a Harley Davidson leather jacket stood up, blocking his path to the bar.

Peter stopped, nervous. As Spider-man, he’d know what to do. But as Peter? “Hi. Could you, um, excuse me? I’m looking for, for Weasel.” He stammered. 

“Well, now. Such manners. Don’t get much of those in here.” The man grinned. 

Peter smiled and tried to go around the man.

The man grinned wider and side-stepped to block him.

“Bob.” Someone drawled from the bar behind the man. “I believe that young man is one of my clients, and you _know_ how I feel about people interfering with my business.” 

The man in front of him frowned, and returned to his seat, leaving the path to the bar free. Peter took a step and realized that it was Deadpool standing right in front of him at the bar.

The merc squinted at him. “Hmmm. You look familiar…” He snapped his fingers. “That’s right! You came up while I was getting hot dogs!” 

Startled, Peter nodded. “I had a…” But before he could finish, Deadpool interrupted him. 

“You knew who I was. Did you want to hire me and chicken out? Well, come on, we’ll talk in Weasel’s office.” He put his arm around Peter and pulled the boy along with him to the back of the bar, through a door, and into a tiny office. “Here. You sit here and tell Deadpool all about who’s been doing you wrong.” Deadpool turned him and pushed him to sit on the ragged couch pushed up against one wall. Then the merc leaned back against the desk, barely an arm’s length from Peter.

Completely confused at what was going on, Peter just sat and gaped at the merc. Now what did he say? He’d been hoping to ask Weasel where he could find Deadpool, then show up as Spider-man and apologize. Now he was talking to Deadpool again, but as _Peter_ , and he could hardly confess his alter ego in the middle of _this_ place. He was sure he’d webbed up more than one of the people he’d seen out in the bar.

When Peter didn’t say anything, the merc sighed. “Okay, let’s start with the social niceties, get you comfortable. Hi. I’m Deadpool, or cuties like you get to call me Wade if you like. Since you’re here to see me, I guess you know what I do. Now, how about you? And feel free to give me a made-up name if it makes you feel better.” Deadpool cocked his head expectantly.

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” Peter replied. “And I’m not here to hire you. I have a job. I work for the Daily Bugle, taking pictures. Usually I take pictures of Spider-man. And…” Peter said, nervously.

Deadpool interrupted him. “You know Spidey! That’s awesome. You’ll have to tell me all about him. Do you have any pictures on you? I’d love to see them.” 

“Ah…” Peter stammered. “No, I… I was looking for you because Spider-man has been trying to find you.”

“Oh.” Deadpool said, straightening up. “Yeah, about that. He’s a little upset with me. I’m trying to fix my image, so he won’t be mad. Wait… You said you take pictures of Spider-man. For that rag that insults Spider-man.” Wades voice got deeper and sounded a little angry. 

Peter winced. “Yes?”

“And Spider-man is okay with that?” Deadpool asked, raising his eyebrows.

Peter nodded. “He knows I don’t write the articles, and they’d write nasty things about him anyhow. And he knows about my blog.”

“Your blog?” Deadpool asked.

“I blog under the name Parker Peterson, and….”

Deadpool burst out laughing. “I love your blog. You post all those ‘corrections’ to the articles in the Bugle.”

Peter ducked his head and nodded. “Yeah. I figure I owe it to Spider-man. He lets me take his pictures and earn enough to pay my rent, so the least I can do is make sure someone publishes the truth.”

“Okay Parker-Pie, why are you here?” His voice sounded a lot more friendly.

“I really did just come by to tell you Spider-man wants to talk to you. He wants to apologize to you.”

Deadpool shook his head. “No… No, that’s not likely. He saw… Well the last few times he saw me weren’t under the best situation. And he got into a fight with the Avengers because of me.” Deadpool nodded, then shrugged. “I’m a mercenary. I don’t do anything for free. I’m trying to do better, but it’s tough.”

“But…” Peter paused. 

“Don’t worry! I’m working on it. I’m gonna prove to him I’m getting better.” Deadpool interrupted again. Then he frowned. “But maybe you can help me out.”

Peter looked at him blankly. “Help you out?” How the heck was this conversation so out of his control?

“Yeah. Write a story on me for your blog. You can show how I’m really trying to change, and then when he sees it, he’ll be willing to forgive me.” Deadpool enthused. 

“But he really…” Peter protested, only to be interrupted again.

“I know what you’re going to say, you need time to put it together, and people to interview. Here’s my card…” He shoved a business card into Peter’s hand. “Text me your deets and I’ll get you names of people to talk to, and we can set up an interview for you. How about I show you out, keep you safe in that crowd? And I recommend you don’t come back here unless you arrange it with me first. It’s too dangerous for nice little nerds like you.” He held his arm out, waiting for Peter to stand.

Still feeling off-balance, Peter stood and let the merc usher him out of the office, and then the bar. The merc was barely paying attention to him, texting something on his phone. 

On the sidewalk in front of the bar, Peter tried one more time to straighten this out. But Deadpool pushed him to the edge of the sidewalk and opened a taxi door. “Dopinder, take this cutie somewhere safe. If he doesn’t want to go home, that’s fine, but don’t leave him in a bad neighborhood like this one.”

And then Peter was in a taxi and on his way away from Deadpool. He groaned. He had no idea how that visit had blown up so badly. Sighing, he examined the business card in his hand. Well, he could go along with the article, then maybe Pool would let Spider-man apologize. 


	16. Is this an anime? Cause this feels like filler...

Peter texted Deadpool, after a great deal of debate over what to send. He finally settled on _Hi. It’s Peter. I’m going to write an article on you._

To his surprise, Deadpool was a prolific, though intermittent, texter. And if following spoken conversations with Deadpool were challenging, texts were a whole new level of confusing. He’d ignore questions, flood Peter’s inbox with memes, reply completely in emojis, then suddenly answer a question Peter had asked hours or days before.

Peter told Jameson he was working on a possible story for a new Superhero in town and got permission to work on it, provided he didn’t forget that his number one focus was, as always, “making sure the city was aware of the crimes of that menace, Spider-man.”

He did, in fact, get some pictures of Deadpool. But because Deadpool was trying to improve his image, he refused to let Peter take any when he was doing anything violent. Though, to be fair, a picture of Deadpool just standing on the street still oozed potential violence. When he showed them to Jameson, Jameson just wanted to know if he had any with this new hero teaming up with that menace. “We can show Spider-man for the danger he is, hanging around with heavily armed goons.”

The people Deadpool sent him to were fascinating, and Peter got some excellent stories.

He spoke to a woman who ran a woman’s shelter. Deadpool had saved her from an abusive husband. Police weren’t able to do anything because they couldn’t arrest her abuser until he actually hurt her. Deadpool helped her get enough proof to get her husband arrested and put away permanently. Then, when she started the shelter, he helped her out. He found donations, helped her find construction and repair people she could afford. (“I’m pretty sure he paid most of the cost” she’d confided.) When Peter showed what he’d gotten to Betty, she told him it would be a great feature and might be a great opportunity to help the shelter raise more money.

He talked to several people who had their identity stolen. Deadpool and Weasel tracked down the person responsible, turned the information over to the police, then arranged for help to clean up the mess made of their lives for all the victims.

He even talked to a little boy who hired Deadpool when his dog went missing. He was convinced that someone had stolen his dog. Deadpool found his dog (not stolen, just lost) and returned him. The boy’s mom told him the Merc had a team calling shelters, vets, and police stations. They found the dog in less than a day. When Peter asked about how much it had cost, the boy said Deadpool was _very_ expensive. It had cost him fifty cents and a package of Gummi worms. But, he assured Peter, it was worth it. And to prove it, the boy hugged his dog.

He tried, on two different occasions, to interview Deadpool. Neither went very well. Any attempt to encourage him to see Spider-man was ignored or waved off. Questioning him about the different people he’d helped was too confusing. He’d jump between stories, answer the boxes in his head (Peter learned more about the boxes, but knowing who Deadpool was talking to didn’t help when Peter couldn’t hear them), and get sidetracked by anything from a balloon to a taco shop. Both times, the interview ended up with the two of them eating tacos in the park and talking about random things.

The more time he spent with Deadpool, the more he liked the guy. He was erratic, volatile, and (if at all possible) hated bullies even more than Peter did. But he really was trying to be a good guy. He told Peter he hadn’t taken an unaliving job in ages and was trying harder to make sure that even the people who deserved it didn’t end up dead. 

Peter mentioned that one reporter had jumped on the story about the woman’s shelter, and was planning on running an in-depth piece, including information on how people could donate to support the shelter. Deadpool was thrilled. He told Peter that the woman was doing amazing work, and that she deserved all the help she could get.

Peter texted and asked Deadpool about the Mexican restaurant, saying Spider-man had mentioned it. Deadpool immediately set up a meeting with Peter at the restaurant. He introduced Peter (again) to Araceli and her staff. Only, this time, Peter sat down at a table with the woman and one of her granddaughters (to ‘translate,’ even though Araceli spoke excellent English. Based on her comments, Peter thought Araceli just wanted to match make.)

She was an incredible storyteller. It was a good thing he’d asked if he could record the interview, because he got so engrossed in the story he forgot to take any notes. She told him she and her husband had come to the country, and they had opened the restaurant and raised their family. But some men were demanding protection money from everyone in the neighborhood. They nearly lost the restaurant, and with it their income and their security. Deadpool had helped them out. According to the woman, there had been a gun battle in the streets, where Deadpool single-handedly took down over 100 men on horseback who were terrorizing the neighborhood. During the process, the restaurant was burned down. Deadpool helped them fund a new location (here Deadpool interjected that the city didn’t have enough authentic Mexican and it would have been a crime not to help.) Peter asked what the fee was for the service provided by the merc. The woman laughed and said he charged each of the businesses $100. Peter suspected this was the same group that Bucky had mentioned, and that explained the Deadpool discount. In addition, he assumed that the cost of the new restaurant, and any other repairs on the street, was a lot more than what Deadpool had gotten paid for helping.

After three weeks, Peter had enough for several feature length stories on the Merc. He knew Jameson would never agree, though he was pretty sure Betty got the one about the women’s shelter approved. When he pitched anything else, Jameson turned it down and simply bought the pictures Peter had of Deadpool. Peter just shrugged. He had expected nothing else. 

He took the best of them and posted it to the Parker Peterson blog, and texted Deadpool, telling him what he’d done.

Now maybe Deadpool would give Spider-man a chance to apologize.


End file.
